Summertime
by dirao
Summary: With only a few weeks left before her internship, someone starts to threaten the people Veronica loves. Bloodshed in the glaring summer sun with a ticking clock and a brand new love. Veronica/Piz Tippers - Mystery/Action/Romance. FINAL CHAPTER IS UP!
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE: "Summertime"**

SPOILERS: Up until the season finale, everything.

TIMELINE: This takes place about a week after the series finale. The gang is a week away from finals.

Summary: A week before finals, Veronica is starting to come to terms with her budding relationship with Piz and the fact that Keith lost the election. With only a few weeks left in Neptune before her FBI internship, someone starts to threaten her life and that of the people she cares about most. Be forewarned, it starts out fluffy before veering into darker territory.

Ship: This is a Tipper (Piz/Veronica) fic. Of the few I've read on this board, most writers ask to please not get flamed. Hey, it's up to you if you want to flame. I'm a firm believer in flying any ship flag you like. Logan will be in this fic and I will try to portray him to the best of my abilities. He is a part of Veronica's life, whether on not I like it, and as such he'll be in there. The whole gang is in the mix.

Disclaimer: Characters not mine. Key plot elements not mine. This story, however, please ask before reposting or linking. Thanks.

RATED: M (Strong R) for sexual situations, language.

**Chapter 1: Wonderland**

He watched her. Too much.

She was taking notes and biting her lower lip and being there, right next to him.

All the while, he was just... watching her work. Still bruised, no stitches but still bruised. No real forward motion. Just watching. And trying to keep all those inappropriate words at bay. He never did manage to succeed in that department.

"I'm going to do that... radio thing... this summer... In New York... I..." he stammered, unsure of where he was going with this.

She took off her headphones and turned on her back. Suddenly, speaking wasn't so important. She raised an eyebrow. "You told me last week," she said, her smile curving slightly to the left.

He reached out to brush her hair off her face. "Yeah, right. That was preamble. I was going somewhere with this."

"Let me guess..." she placed her arm under her head for comfort. She could see him better now, his eyes, everything. "You're gonna miss me."

"Well, of course I'm gonna miss you." He could feel a rant coming on and was powerless to stop it. "I've spent the last week in the same room with you at least 70% of the time, and even though I'll be working and probably really liking my job, I think I'll be thinking about you..."

"I was kidding, Piz." She bit down on her lower lip, her smile not as wide. "Just say what you wanted to say. I promise, no more quips."

"Right." His cheeks flushed red. He hated that. "I wanted to know... I mean... I wanted to ask... Because there's the fourth of July which is Friday and I might save some money up and... Could I... Virginia isn't that far. I could..." Her smile was encouraging. "Maybe I could drive up... visit you. Just for the weekend. Long weekend."

Veronica looked up at him. He'd had trouble enough getting that out, but now he was avoiding looking at her.

The week had been horrible. Her father losing the election. Logan walking around, apologetic but still aggressively pursuing... something. Leaving messages. And Piz had held her hand through it all. His bruises subsided but he still acted like he needed to ask permission to kiss her... It had been back to first base, hell, back in the batting cage, pecks on the cheek and shy smiles.

She propped herself up on her elbows. "Hey... Earth to Piz?"

He looked back at her. He was trying to keep himself from being a puppet, a puppy, an idiot. He was shielding himself from hurt. And that was one thing Veronica knew all about.

"If you have a free weekend and it doesn't completely bottom out your savings... you better visit me, Mister."

She grinned widely, her smile reaching her eyes. He couldn't help it. He swooped down and took her mouth in his.

She gasped, surprised. They hadn't been this close since... since before Logan had beat Piz up.

He backed away just a little, looking into her eyes, trying to measure her reaction. "You ok?"

She nodded. Her fingers ran over the reddened scar where his stitches had been. "You?"

He nodded. She watched as his smile widened. "I've missed this."

"Me too," she admitted. And meant it. "I think we should pick up right where we left off."

"On your dad's couch?" he asked, teasing. Sometimes, only sometimes, he too could be good with the one-liners.

"I was thinking more along the lines of naked," she offered.

His eyes widened. Her one-liners were, of course, so much better than his. "I, uh... I think I could get on board with that idea."

He bent down to kiss her but she had other ideas. "Good," she said. "You first."

He stopped cold. Here they were, in broad daylight, not even five o'clock yet. He'd expected something along the lines of fumbling clothes in a darkened room after midnight. He felt... fifteen.

"Come on, Piznarski. Show us some skin," she joked, sitting up.

Her fingers grazed the hem of his t-shirt, then slowly began pulling it up. He took a deep breath and kept his eyes on hers. Her fingertips slowly trailed over his skin, and he understood, just then, how much of a goner he was. He helped her pull up his shirt and searched her eyes to see what her reaction would be. The horror-filled look in his eyes was the exact opposite of what he'd hoped for.

"What is it?" he asked, looking down at himself. Maybe someone had tattooed him in his sleep. But no. What she was looking at was the blotches of purple around his ribs. "Oh."

Veronica traced his ribs, touching the bruised skin ever-so-slightly. "Does it still hurt?"

"Only when you look at it like that," he said, his smile almost absent.

She looked troubled.

He hooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look up at him. "It doesn't hurt much anymore. Honest." He smiled. "I'm a really resistant punching bag."

She feigned a smile. "I hate that he did this," she started.

"But you can't hate him," Piz finished.

She nodded. "Tried that before. Doesn't work."

Piz shrugged. "I think, you know, now that I'm half naked, we should be honest. Not because I'm half naked... I mean... Let me start over." He took a deep breath with closed eyes. Maybe, with his eyes closed, he could explain with greater clarity exactly what he wanted to say. "I don't need... No, I don't want you to stop speaking to Logan in my account. Maybe, in his shoes, I would've done the same thing." He opened his eyes and saw Veronica, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. "Ok, maybe I would've asked first, but still. What I want to say is... You and Logan have a history, a complicated one, and you and I... we don't. I can't ask you to erase that and you can't volunteer to. And not answering his phone-calls is just avoiding the inevitable awkward meeting or whatever. He's your ex and your friend and even though I really don't like the guy and he can kick my butt three ways to Sunday, you are who you are, you hang out with who you want to hang out with."

"I know all this, Piz. I do..." Veronica started, but Piz placed a finger on her lips.

"Just... let me get this out of the way now, Veronica." She nodded, allowing him to continue. "I don't mind if you and Logan have a relationship. I mean... I mind... I know I'm the rebound guy and I hate that, but just tell me now if you're going back to him soon, because I'm not sure all of me heals as quickly as my ribs."

Veronica cracked a smile. "I like you, Piz." She tilted her head and looked at him intently. "I can't say more than that yet, but this..." she said, pointing to Piz and then herself. "This is growing on me. It's different. A good different. I'm not planning on going back to Logan. And I appreciate you being cavalier about it, but I haven't answered his calls because I really don't want to. Maybe I am delaying an inevitable, awkward conversation with him, or a fight."

"I'm not like him," Piz said, his eyes fixed on his comforter.

Veronica inched closer to him, until her lips rested against his ear. He could feel her breath and it made his heart stop. "I know, Piznarski. I don't think you're 'the rebound guy'. And I'm right here."

He faced her, pulling back just enough to get her in focus. He could see in her eyes that she meant it. She was with him because she wanted to, not out of some sense of loyalty or friendship. Because she wanted to be.

He pulled her into a kiss, slow but deep. It wasn't tentative, like the one before. He wasn't asking for an invitation. He already knew he was welcome. It was as if a brick had been lifted off his chest.

Veronica sensed the change as well. His hands, fumbling just moments ago, expertly caressed her back, ducked beneath her shirt, cupped her ass. She almost squealed as he pulled them both on top of him, and maybe she would have if he hadn't winced in pain as her elbow landed on his bruised rib.

"Huh," he said, as Veronica apologized profusely. "That's not how I saw that going. I thought I was doing pretty good."

Veronica laughed. How long had it been since she'd laughed like this? "You were doing real smooth, babe," she quipped, moving to settle on top of him.

His hands moved up and down her back as he peppered kisses on her hair. "I think maybe I'm too old for this. Maybe we should take a nap," he added.

She swatted his hip and brought her lips up to his. "Not a chance, Piznarski. You still have those pants on. And if I remember correctly, you were gonna take them off."

He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her into a kiss. "Subtle."

"I can help you out of those," she added.

He grinned. "Thought you'd never ask."

- - - - - - - - - - -

"So I think this was were we left off," Veronica said, as Piz slid her bra off.

"Nervous?" he asked, kissing her collarbone.

She shrugged. "A little."

Piz scanned her face, "I should be the nervous one."

"I promise you won't get beat up this time."

He settled on top of her, skin against skin. She slid her hands down his back, to the waistband of his boxers, to the curve of his ass. "I like your weight on me," she said.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You're corny."

"That better stay between us," Veronica warned.

Piz nodded. He wasn't planning on telling anyone about this afternoon. Not Wallace, who was conveniently away "studying" in his girlfriend's room. Not his friends back home, not himself tomorrow morning. This was his secret.

He softly kissed her, taking care of going slow, as slow as his resolve permitted.

"I won't break," she offered.

He smiled. "I know. I just... Ok."

His mouth covered hers and he felt it. What existed between them wasn't blinding passion, it was fire that built up slowly but still threatened to consume him if he wasn't careful. He dragged his lips down her neck, his tongue peeking out to taste the taut skin of her collar. He looked up at her, his eyes questioning, asking for permission. Her nod was infinitesimal, but he could feel her breath catching in her throat. She felt it too.

His mouth covered her left breast and his tongue teased her hard nipple. Her back arched and she sucked in her breath. Piz wasn't an expert at any of this, but he knew he'd hit jackpot.

"Tell me when to stop," he whispered, his mouth traveling lower, kissing his way down to her navel and then, even lower. His fingers traced the edge of her panties. He looked up to her and was awed to find her watching his every move. She wasn't the kind of girl to close her eyes. He should've known.

"Don't stop," she said, her voice heavy.

He felt a devilish grin creeping up his lips, and his skin flushed red. "Ok," he whispered against her skin. He had to learn to stop talking. It got him into all kinds of trouble. He traced the edge of Veronica's panties with his tongue then hooked his fingers on the sides and slowly, slowly pulled them off. He slid them down her long legs, but he didn't look at them. He looked into Veronica's eyes.

He could get used to her not closing them. She made him feel braver than he really was.

But her open eyes also made him want to challenge her, to do things that would make her close her eyes and say his name.

Piz turned his attention to her legs. Kissing her kneecaps, he parted her legs and slowly dragged his mouth up the inside of her thigh. Her breathing became shallow as he neared her center, and then it seemed almost as if she was holding her breath.

He looked up for a fraction of a second and saw her fingers digging into his comforter. He took a second to enjoy the view of having Veronica naked on his bed.

This was gonna be good.

- - - - - - - -

She didn't know exactly when it started. The feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her maybe she'd been wrong about there not being any adrenaline in her relationship with Piz.

Maybe it had been the second she saw Piz bruised by Logan's fists, accompanied by the feeling of her heart sinking.

Maybe it was earlier, that other time on their bed, when they'd been all wandering hands.

It was hard to think about it now that Piz was doing... what he was doing.

She could feel a flush creeping on her breasts and as she looked down at Piz, she caught him looking up into her eyes, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

"What?" she mouthed, almost out of breath.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, just before kissing her inner thigh. And then...

She felt his tongue on her, his lips, the pull of his kisses... Her fingers made their way to his longish hair and massaged his scalp, setting a rhythm to guide him. He took the hint right away, his strokes slowing and reaching the exact spot.

"Right there," she encouraged, biting down on her lower lip. "Yeah, Piz, right there."

She could feel him smile against her warm skin, could see the smile reach his eyes. Her body moved against his mouth, his tongue explored and she could even feel the slightest dragging of teeth and then the buildup until she couldn't stand it anymore. Her eyes shut tight against the onslaught of her climax, and her back arched. She gasped, audibly, as Piz's mouth kept attacking her, creating wave upon wave of warmth. He started moving up her body, kissing a trail up her leg, her hip, the side of her breast, and her hands pulled him closer, closer. She shuddered as he kissed her neck. And try as she might, her eyes remained closed as her breath steadied.

His lips covered hers in a soft kiss and then he waited. Her eyelids fluttered and she looked straight at him. "Hey," he said, kissing her again.

"Hey," she concurred. "I... Uh... That was..."

He grinned at her, glowing with pride. "Speechless?"

She nodded.

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

She nodded again.

He traced her eyebrows with his index finger. "I like you chatty but I could get used to this."

"Don't take the trouble. It won't last long," she said, punching his arm playfully. "Unless..." she teased, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm scared to ask what you're thinking," he said, as she flipped him over on his back and climbed atop him.

"As you should be," she whispered, before capturing his lips in a bruising kiss.

- - - - - - - - - -

Veronica watched as Piz drifted into fitful sleep. She'd been sleeping close to him for almost a month now, and he never slept peacefully. She wondered why.

The truth was, as much as Piz shared about himself, she had to recognize that she didn't know him as well as she could. But there was some intrinsic trust that she didn't want to break by looking up his priors.

The sun was just going down, her stomach was rumbling and he was napping, face down, his arm draped over her belly. The one painkiller he was still taking had a bit of a sleeping agent. Still, after the way he'd touched her, because of the way she felt now, as she watched him sleep, she felt the kick of insecurity once again.

What if he wasn't who he showed?

She shook him a little. He pulled her closer, his leg tangling with hers. She shook him harder. "Piz?"

He looked at her through half-closed lashes. "U-huh?"

"Do you have any priors?" she asked.

He eyed her in confusion. "Like, a police record?"

She nodded.

"Uh... Back in Beaverton there's this sort of film festival around the fountain at the Beaverton City Park and some friends and I, we cut off the water supply to the fountain, so that people could hear the movie's soundtrack. They let us go with a warning. I think. But you can check on that, right?" His eyes widened. "Actually, would you? Now I'm worried."

Veronica smiled. "Yeah, don't worry, I'll check on that for you." Her stomach grumbled.

"Hungry?"

"Pack of wolves in my stomach," she agreed.

"Something's bothering you," Piz said. "I mean, beside the angry wolves."

"Just... P.I. Paranoia."

Piz shook his head and sat up, pulling on his pants. "Come on. I'll buy you dinner at Chez University Cafeteria and we can play twenty questions."

He extended his hand to her, and she took it. Sitting up, she managed a devilish smile. "Only twenty?"

He handed her a clean t-shirt from his top drawer. "Don't get greedy."

- - - - - - - -

Mac slid into the seat next to Veronica, and they both watched Wallace and Piz maneuver through the cafeteria line.

"Quit that," Mac said, elbowing Veronica.

Veronica turned to look at her, surprised. "Quit what?"

"That whole smiling and undressing Piz with your eyes. It's creepy," Mac said. "Ok, not creepy, just... weird. It's Piz."

Veronica nodded. "I know. It's weird, right? But we just had... you know... a close encounter... of the sexual kind. Not sex-sex. Close. And it was..."

"Mars, don't even go there," Mac warned.

"Come on," Veronica teased. "Who else am I going to tell? Wallace? My dad? That's it. I'm out of friends."

Mac sighed. "Ok. Ok. Go all TMI on me."

"I'll spare you the details, but let it just be said... it was good."

"And you? Are you good?" Mac asked. "I mean... he's smitten and you are...?"

Veronica glanced at Mac sideways. "I think I'm getting there." She took a sip of water and smiled. "And not just because of the physical stuff but... he's a good guy. I didn't expect to feel like this. But he's... I can't explain it yet."

Mac grinned. "I think that's good. Once you get to labeling things, you start taking surveillance photos and sticking them in manila folders."

Wallace approached the table with two trays, followed closely by Piz.

"So what were you gals talking about?" Wallace asked, his eyes going from Mac to Veronica. "Our general hotness?"

Veronica grabbed a paper cup with orange juice and stuck a straw in it. "Hmm," she started, sipping on her juice. "Maybe if you do a little dance, turn around, I could remember all that hotness."

Wallace stood up and did just that. Piz shook his head. "I will not dance. Last time I did, you guys couldn't stop laughing for a month. I think I'll keep my hotness to myself if that's ok."

"You're no fun," Veronica pouted.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she nearly choked on her juice. "Huh."

Wallace stopped dancing and took a long look at both of them. "Dude, whatever you did, you better have done on your bed, not mine."

Piz's eyes widened and his face went red. And Veronica couldn't stop laughing.

- - - - - - - - -

"So," Piz asked, his forehead against Veronica's. They were at the front door of the Mars' apartment and their fingers entwined, they'd been saying goodbye for about twenty minutes. "I'd gotten used to having you around."

Veronica nodded. She licked her lower lip and this seemed to almost hypnotize Piz. "Whatever will you do without me?"

Piz shrugged. "Another night of lousy sleep."

"You are a light sleeper," Veronica noted.

He nodded. "I sleep better with you there."

"I need to get some work done here," Veronica explained. Ever since the election, her dad had begun to put Mars Investigations back together, and now that she had her license, it was her obligation to pitch in even more often. "I haven't seen Dad much this week."

"He's not home yet," Piz pointed out. "The car isn't downstairs."

Veronica smiled. "I am rubbing off on you. Mister P.I...Z."

"You can rub off on me whenever you want," he said, then shook his head. "Ok, that sounded dirtier than I intended."

"I'd ask you in, but I don't want to risk it," Veronica admitted. She reached behind his neck and pulled him closer, just the few millimeters she needed to kiss him. Her teeth dragged along his lower lip, his tongue slowly caressed hers.

He backed away for breath, his hands on both sides of her face. "Yup. Risk, that's my middle name."

"Stosh Risk Piznarski?" she asked, pushing her key into the lock. "Really?"

"It's actually worse than that," Piz replied. "You'll see it in my file."

Veronica's smile dropped. "I'm not going to look you up. I was..."

Piz shrugged it off. "You do whatever you need to do to trust me. I know who I am, and ever since I got here, I've heard a lot about who you are or who people think you are and I've gotten to know you, slowly. But you can look it all up if you want to. Or you can ask me," he said.

Veronica nodded. "On Saturday," she said, pulling him closer by his shirt. "On Saturday, you, me, coffee ice cream and a busload of questions."

Piz nodded, kissing her full on the mouth. "I'll bring the photo album and the family tree."

"Good. Goodnight," she said, pushing him away. He started down the stairs and Veronica couldn't help smiling to herself. She pushed the door open and flipped on the light switch.

And then she screamed.

TBC...

Author's note: As you can see, this started out as pure fluff but will be going deep into mystery territory, and we'll get a look into Piz's background and family. Hope you keep on reading. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Just wanted to take a quick second to thank everyone who read the first chapter. I generally don't fish for reviews but I really would like to know what you think of the story and where it's going, as I'm new to the fandom. I've also written another Tipper (Piz/Veronica) fic, a one shot called Macaroni. You can find a link to it on my profile. Please stop by, and feel free to flame if you must. Thanks!**

**CHAPTER 2**

**Sorting**

Piz was halfway down the stairs when he heard her scream. He ran back up, two steps at a time, his heart in his throat.

He had no time to imagine what was wrong, no fully formed ideas by the time he reached the door, but it was nightmarish.

Right in front of the door, in a pool of blood, lay Backup, his throat slit.

"Summer is just starting" was written in blood on the kitchen cabinets.

Veronica was staring at the wall, mouth open, eyes wide. She was stunned silent, but looked as if she was on the verge of a scream.

Piz pulled her to him, and she buried her face in his shirt. He held her tight, shielding her from the bloody mess the apartment had become, and led her outside. He closed the door behind them.

Piz let her go just a little and checked her face, unsure of what he was looking for. Injuries? He didn't know. "Give me your phone," he said. "I'm calling your father." She handed Piz the phone, her hands shaking. He'd never seen her hands shaking. He dialed.

"Mr. Mars? It's P-Stosh. Yes, Veronica is ok. Someone broke into your apartment," he said, trying not to give too much detail. He hung up after various nods. "He'll be right here. Let's... let's go sit in the car."

- - - - - - - - - -

They both took deep breaths. And waited.

"They were in my house," she said. Looking up at Piz, she realized she was showing herself, broken. She allowed some anger to creep into her voice. "Some fucker was in my house."

"Who... Have you gotten threats?" Piz asked, trying to figure it out.

"Every week, at least three. Since high school. I stopped paying much attention," she replied, waving it away.

"We'll go through them."

"Stop stealing my lines."

Piz reached out and squeezed her hand. "I would be... a thousand times more freaked out."

"You don't get it, do you?" Veronica asked. "I don't get freaked out." She looked out the window, pulling her hand away.

Piz looked down. Suddenly his shoelaces seemed so interesting. "I'm gonna shut up now."

Silence.

Neither of them moved. The lights from the passing cars filtered through the windows.

"Sorry," she finally said, barely a whisper.

"It's ok," Piz replied.

Veronica reached her hand back out and, though she still avoided his eyes, she took his hand in his. "It isn't."

Piz shrugged. "No, it isn't. But right now? It doesn't matter."

She nodded, squeezing his hand. "I'm freaking out."

- - - - - - - - - -

Piz had suspected, from the moment he first laid eyes on her, that being part of Veronica's life would, by default, make his life more interesting.

He hadn't banked on any of this.

He watched as everything went on around him, almost in slow motion. Keith Mars' arrival, his concern for Veronica, his tentative entrance to the apartment.

Piz advanced into the apartment again, the stench of blood filling his nostrils. He felt like he needed to do something, help in some way. He wanted to clean the apartment, leave it spotless, so there would be no memory of what had happened there. But it was impossible to do, as it was impossible for any of them to forget the scene.

A police deputy arrived, still in uniform but driving his own car, not a patrol car. From the snatches of conversation he caught his name, Leo, and a compassive smile towards Veronica. This wasn't a police visit. This was a friend's helping hand.

For the first time in his life, Piz felt something bottom out in his good, American stomach. Yes, he'd dabbled in left wing idealism and he understood where a few conspiracy theories came from. But watching the scene unfold before him, he caught on to an idea that had never occurred to him before. In Neptune, with Vinnie Van Lowe as a sheriff and everyone out for Mars blood, neither Veronica nor Keith could count on anyone but themselves. Justice, revenge or just plain knowledge of who had done this and why, they all rested on what they, as individuals, could do.

Tentatively, keeping his hold of Veronica's hand, Piz approached Keith Mars and asked, "What can I do?"

Keith glanced from Piz to Veronica, and back. "Go back to campus. Both of you." Veronica moved to protest, but Keith interrupted. "I'll sleep on Leo's couch. I already called a clean-up crew and Leo's taking samples and collecting evidence. We won't have anything from the lab until tomorrow at the earliest."

Veronica nodded. "I'm gonna get some stuff... fresh clothes..." she said, pulling at the t-shirt she was wearing. It belonged to Piz.

Piz watched her go, circling around the pools of blood.

"She's gonna take the hate mail with her to obsess over," Keith said to him.

Piz nodded. "I know. I'll try to make sure she gets some sleep."

"You make sure she doesn't do anything stupid, Stosh," Keith added. "Nothing can be solved tonight."

- - - - - - - - - -

The drive had been quiet, too quiet. He'd bitten his tongue the whole way back, trying to avoid the platitudes and useless facts that he generally used to fill the silence.

So when they finally got to his dorm room, he was surprised when Veronica punched his shoulder. "And this is for not talking the entire ride."

He pushed the door open and let her through. "I couldn't think of anything relevant to say. I had a couple of little known facts about spider monkeys, but I didn't want to be a jerk."

She turned to face him, and though she attempted a smile, it didn't reach her reddened eyes. "What about spider monkeys?"

Piz pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes. "I promise to tell you if you promise to leave that stack of hate mail for tomorrow morning, ok?"

She glanced down at her purse and slowly, tentatively nodded.

- - - - - - - - - -

She rested her head on his chest. His breathing calmed her.

How much had things changed between them in the past day? How much could a conversation, a few words, change?

"Tell me about Backup," he said, softly. His hand caressed her arm, slowly.

She shrugged. "He was a good guard dog... He must've put up a fight," she whispered.

"Was he a puppy when you got him?" Piz asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the dog's murder.

She nodded. "He was the runt of the litter. Scrawny fellow. My mom picked him out... she said he reminded her of Dad and I. Scrawny underdogs, I guess she meant." She sniffled. "Do you have a dog? Back in Oregon?"

"My dad's allergic. I did, however, have an iguana when I was growing up. My older brother named her Juana, because of a song he heard on this Puerto Rican radio station our neighbors used to listen to." Piz smiled. "Baila como Juana la Iguana," he sang. "I think it was a commercial or something."

"You have a brother," Veronica stated, looking up at him.

Piz shrugged. "Piotr. He didn't like his name either, made us call him Pete. He ran away when I was 12. Haven't seen him since." He could sense Veronica's reaction to this and he looked at her pointedly. "Don't look at me like that."

"I could find him for you," she offered.

Piz shook his head. "He didn't exactly run away. He was a week away from turning 18. He just... left one day. Left a note. I don't think I want to find him," he said. "I have a sister, too. She's six. Iza," he added, attempting to change the subject. But he could almost hear the gears in Veronica's head. "Please, don't make this a pet project."

"I just thought..."

He pulled her closer, until their noses were almost touching. He looked her square in the eye. "If I ever decide to find him, you'll be the first to know. But right now? I'm not ready to know. And you have more important things ahead of you."

Veronica nodded. He kissed her forehead and let her settle back into a comfortable position. "How is it that we're this close to stealing home base and I just now hear about your family?"

Piz shrugged. "I don't know... it's never come up in conversation."

"Is that my fault?" Veronica asked.

"Not particularly. I just don't talk about them that much." Piz hugged her tight. "Hey," he started. "How close are we to stealing home base?"

"You should get some sleep, Piznarski," Veronica offered, settling into the warmth of his body.

He nodded, slowly. "Yeah. I think I should."

- - - - - - - - - - -

The fan overhead clicked noisily, and Piz wondered what that was all about. The dark around him seemed deeper that it usually was. Not even the streetlights filtered through the blinds.

His hands moved instinctively to find something to hold on to, because he knew how this went. Veronica was nowhere to be seen, and the bed slowly gave way, becoming a gaping hole. He grasped at the covers, at the headboard. It was futile.

He sank.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Veronica woke to Piz's shudders. He shook his head a couple of times and then, with no other warning, his eyes flew open and he gasped for breath.

She sat up, placing a hand on his forehead. "Are you alright?"

He winced slightly, a silent request for her to give him a little space. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. "Yeah," he said. "Bad dream."

Veronica sat cross-legged next to him, brushing the hair off his forehead. "Happen often?"

He propped himself up on his elbows. "I guess. I've never been a deep sleeper."

"Why's that?"

Piz shrugged. "Dunno."

Veronica narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you want to tell me about the dream?"

Piz yawned. "I'm up for all kinds of psychoanalysis, but right now, I'd rather get back to that whole sleeping endeavor. Who knows, maybe dream about Wondergirl who's sitting next to me."

Veronica rolled her eyes and lay back down. "You're not getting off that easy," she said.

He turned on his side and draped an arm around his waist. "Just as long as the torture happens after the sun comes up. Preferrably after breakfast."

"But I have work to do in the morning," Veronica whispered, with heavy seriousness in her voice.

Piz sighed. "After lunch then."

"Right."

- - - - - - - - -

Piz woke to the sound of wooden blinds coming together and glaring sunlight streaming onto his face.

"Rise and shine, Stosh," Veronica's voice sang out.

He peeked at her through half closed lids. "Don't call me that in the early morning. Please."

"I brought you coffee and an egg sandwich. Also brought Wallace and Mac to help us go through the hate mail pile."

Piz opened his eyes to find all three of them staring at him. "Uhm... I'm not wearing pants."

Mac rolled her eyes and turned around. "Make a run for it."

Piz shook his head and grabbed a pair of sweatpants off his dresser and did, indeed, run for it.

"Hey, nice boxers," Mac teased.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Freshly showered, Piz walked into the room and grabbed his coffee and sandwich. He took a sip from the scalding hot liquid and coughed. "So... how does this go."

Veronica handed him a pile of opened letters. "These go back a year. We sort them into three piles: mildly agressive, empty threats of civil action and I'll kill your dog. And you staple each letter to its envelope, in case we find anything interesting on the envelope."

Wallace gave Veronica a friendly pat. "You can go to class if you want and we'll do the sorting."

"Only have one class left tomorrow, and if I don't sort I'll go insane," Veronica replied.

Wallace nodded.

"Ok, then," Mac offered. "Mild agression, civil action, dead dog pile."

Piz finished his coffee and started going through a stack of letters, giving Veronica a small, pursed-lips smile.

- - - - - - - -

"This is interesting," Mac started. "Oh, wait, no. That was just bad spelling."

Wallace shook his head. "If all of the people who threatened to sue you and your dad actually went through with it, you'd be stripping for cash."

"Me and my dad? That's just wrong, Wallace," Veronica quipped.

"Done!" Piz called, his arms up in the air. "I know it's not a contest, but it's nice to be good at something."

"Ah, sorting." Veronica smiled at him. "The post-modern, sporty-musician passtime."

Piz raised his eyebrows twice in quick succession. "You should see me doing taxes."

"Enough, I'm going diabetic. Also, I'm done," Mac said, shuddering.

"Me too," Wallace added. "There's some really messed up stuff in the dead dog pile. None specifically relating to dogs, but still."

"Let's go through that, shall we?" Veronica grabbed the first one on the pile. "_Mars: You will die a terrible death in the hands of the Lord. _Ok. That's only mildly threatening. Why is it in the dead dog pile?"

Piz turned the page over.

"Oh. Wow. I didn't know people could say Lord and then do that," Veronica said, her eyes widening. She tilted her head to the side and looked at the picture again. "Still, don't think this is it."

"There was writing on the wall, right?" Mac asked. Veronica nodded. "There's this handwriting analysis software. We go through these again, group the ones that come from the same person. I mean, someone who does something like this would try to get the message accross more than once. You get me a picture of the writing on your cabinets and a scanner, and I'll try to match it."

Veronica grinned widely. "Mac, have I ever told you about the girl crush I have on you sometimes?"

Mac quirked her eyebrow at Veronica, then looked at Piz.

Piz just raised his arms in the air. "Don't look at me. You two keep doing what you're doing."

Veronica slapped his arm playfully. Then, she stood up and grabbed her car keys. "Como on, Piznarski. We're going to visit my dad."

Wallace howled. Veronica gave him a smirk. "Stop it, Wolfman. Help Mac finish the second sorting stage," she added, dragging Piz out of the room by the hand.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"It's got a seventies motif going," Veronica explained as she pushed open the door to Mars Investigations. "Dad?"

"In here," called Keith Mars from his office.

Veronica led Piz to the small headquarters of Mars Investigations. "Mr. Mars."

"Stosh."

Piz blushed, wanting to correct him, but deciding finally to just let it go.

"Mac is going to help out, running handwriting recognition against our hate mail, so I'll need a picture of the handwriting on the kitchen," Veronica said.

Keith handed her a CD. "They didn't find any prints."

"The knife?" she asked.

"From our kitchen," he replied, matter-of-factly. "The cleanup crew got everything spotless, and I buried Backup behind the office."

Piz didn't realize it, but his mouth was hanging open in confusion.

"Did Backup bite whoever did this?" Veronica asked.

"Leo found an injection site. They managed to tranq Backup before they killed him," Keith explained.

Veronica nodded. "I'll grab the mail on the way back to campus. See if anything's there."

Keith tilted his head in tacit agreement. "It's better if you stay with Wallace and Stosh a little longer. Whoever was in the house was there for over two hours. I'm having the place swept tomorrow morning."

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll keep myself busy and surrounded," she replied. "Wait, where will you be staying?"

"At the apartment. With a baseball bat."

"Dad..."

"I'll stay over at Leo's."

"Oki-doke." Veronica grabbed Piz's hand and dragged him away from the office.

"Mr. Mars," Piz said.

"See you later, Stosh. Honey, keep in touch. "

Once outside, Piz leaned into Veronica. "My presence here was necessary how?"

"When Dad sees me with you he thinks I'm going to behave. Which I don't necessarily plan on doing," Veronica admitted. "That said, it's cute to see you wince when he says your name."

Piz scratched the back of his neck absently. "It's not that I hate my name, it's just that, being part of the 1.7 % of Oregon's Polish-American population and being the only one in Beaverton with a name all Poles can make good fun of was sort of traumatic when I was growing up. Also, your dad says my name like a death sentence."

Veronica waved it off. "P.I. scare tactics," she added as she opened the car doors.

Piz climbed into the passeger's seat and buckled up. "You realize that may have been the scariest conversation I've ever witnessed? Ever? You were talking about your dog, who died last night, and you barely even blinked. Neither of you."

Veronica shut the car door and looked over at Piz, who was fidgeting with the seatbelt. "Look, Piz, I'm not good at subtle, at crying or at romance. I think you should know that right off the bat."

Piz pushed his longish hair out of his eyes and shrugged. "I like the lack of subtlety. I'm no good with the big, romantic gestures either. But crying over Backup? I'm just saying, I wouldn't hold it against you. If you ever felt like it." He sighed. "Sometimes you should think about mourning."

"I mourn. By catching the son of a bitch who did this," Veronica explained, revving up the engine. "If that scares you, then that's that."

"Will you stop trying to push me away?" Piz asked, visibly angered. "It's like every other word you're this close to spraying Mace on me just to show you're no good. Sheesh."

The car filled with silence. She stole a glance at him. He was truly, genuinely upset.

So she dealt with it the only way she knew how.

"Sheesh?" she retorted, stifling a laugh.

Piz couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. Sheesh. It's the sound a guy from Oregon makes when he's exasperated." He shook his head and laughed. "Agh, just start the damn car and let's get that mail. I'm just warning you, after all the fight you're putting up, I'm going to start believing that you're actually as tough as you say you are."

"Sheesh," Veronica teased.

"Yuk it up."

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Hey, bitches!" Veronica said, pushing Wallace's dorm room open.

"Hey," Mac said. "I've been scanning."

"And I've been cramming," Wallace added, pointing to his calculus book. "Got a test this afternoon."

Veronica shook her head. "I hang out with you guys way too much."

Piz entered the room and plopped himself down on his empty bed. "I'm tired of being sidekick. Can Wallace cover my next shift?" he joked.

"Wuss," Wallace countered.

Mac chuckled. "Did you get the picture?"

Veronica handed her the CD and plopped down right next to Piz, resting her head on his shoulder. "A two hour car ride and a talk with my dad and you give up? Shame on you."

Mac rolled her eyes. "I have two finals tomorrow morning. I should have some results tomorrow afternoon." She packed up her things and left.

Veronica stared at the ceiling, then back at Piz. "Do you have somewhere to be?"

"Mass Comm at five, the station at seven. You?"

"Have to hand in a term paper at four. Wanna make out?" she whispered.

"I can hear you," Wallace called out.

Piz chuckled. "Come on. I'll buy you lunch," he said, standing up and taking Veronica's hand.

"You want anything, Wallace, baby?" Veronica asked.

"Yeah. For you two to get your own room."

- - - - - - - - - -

Veronica doodled on a small notebook while she waited for Piz, who'd spaced and left his wallet in the room. Her doodles were, as always nondescript. She included the word "woof" absently, thinking of Backup. Maybe this was mourning.

In the middle of the noisy cafeteria, she heard Logan's footsteps. She cursed herself momentarily for having that memorized.

"Veronica," he said, sitting accross from her. "You haven't answered my phonecalls."

"So you decided you'd stalk me instead?" she asked. There was no generosity in her voice.

Logan shook his head. "Look, all I wanted to do was apologize."

"You did that already. Apologized your way through punching a guy in the cafeteria, beating up Piz." She shook her head. "I told you, Logan, I need time before we even think about being friends again."

"You liked that I punched that guy, Veronica," Logan said. "I could see it in your eyes."

"It's not something I'm proud of," she replied.

Logan scoffed at her. "What, you're taking after Piz now? Lover, not a fighter?" He laughed snidely. "You're not built that way, right, Ronnie?"

He was egging her on and she felt, in a way, caged. To respond peacefully would just give him a doorway for a new verbal hit, to acidly reply would only make him right.

Then Veronica felt a hand on her shoulder. "Hi, Logan. Didn't know you were having lunch with us," Piz said, sitting next to Veronica.

"I wasn't," Logan replied, standing from the table and walking away.

Piz looked sideways at Veronica, who shook her head, dismissing what had just happened. "He was apologizing. Again."

"Right," Piz answered.

"Piz," she said. He turned to face her. She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply.

"Oh," Piz whispered. "That."

"Yup. That." She ran her fingers through his unruly hair and smiled. "I'm with doofus."

Piz's cheeks burned red and he stood up. "I'm with Mars." He grinned. "Food," he added, pointing to the cafeteria.

Veronica nodded and watched him go. She didn't even glance towards where Logan had disappeared.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

By the time Veronica got back to Wallace and Piz's dorm, she got the tail-end of the conversation through the closed door.

"Come on, Wallace," Piz said.

"Nu-uh. No way," Wallace countered.

"I'll do your laundry," Piz offered.

Wallace laughed. "Man, you're going to have to think of something better than that."

"I'll do your laundry all of next year."

"Tempting, but no."

Pause. "Ok. What's it gonna take?"

"There is nothing that will make me not sleep in this bedroom tonight. Nothing you can do," Wallace countered. "I've missed my bed."

Veronica smiled to herself, and pushed open the door.

"Hey, Wallace," she said, before dropping her bag on the floor and jumping on Piz. Literally. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist and attacked his mouth.

Piz somehow managed not to lose his balance and placed his hands on her back, pulling her closer. He kissed her back in disbelief, his eyes closing in spite of himself.

"Alright, alright, I'm out," Wallace said, grabbing his things and stuffing them in a duffel. "You two are doing my laundry until graduation," he added, walking out of the room.

Veronica backed away from Piz's lips just long enough to say, "Bye, Wallace."

She heard the door close behind them and she smiled. But what had started out as a joke had turned much more serious. Piz's mouth searched hers out again, with more intensity than ever before. His tongue danced with hers, his lips bruised hers. He managed to manuever them to his bed and sat down, with her astride his hips. "You taste so fucking good," he whispered, forgetting himself.

Veronica felt a flush of heat creep up her neck. Between broken kisses, she asked, "Do you... realize... you just said that... out loud?"

He kissed his way down her chin, to the delicate skin on her neck. "No..." he whispered. "But it's true."

"So you wanted to have the room all to ourselves?" Veronica asked.

"Yes. I figured," he said, his hot mouth against her collarbone. "We'd need space... to study."

"Anatomy, I gather," Veronica quipped.

"U-huh," Piz said. "Though I actually do need to study." He kissed her again. "Well, finish up my Pop Culture and Media paper."

"I have an idea," Veronica said, stretching to the side and grabbing Wallace's alarm.

"What are you doing?" Piz asked, confused.

"Setting the alarm. In one hour, we stop making out and start working. How does that sound?" she replied, setting the alarm back down and pressing her lips to his cheek, then nibbling on his ear.

"Unlikely."

- - - - - - - - - -

For Veronica, concentrating on her exam had been almost impossible. She could do it in her sleep, that was no problem. It was just getting harder to think academics with everything else that was going on. After the exam she made her way back to the dorms, and her mind kept going to the previous night, and how it had taken all her willpower to break up the makeout session with Piz when the alarm went off, and truth be told, she'd pushed the snooze button twice.

It had been difficult, at first, to get used to the idea of entering a relationship with Piz. But now it seemed as though he'd always been there. And the thought of his mouth on hers, the memory of his whispers, made her hot all over again. Maybe it wasn't a roller coaster relationship like she had with Logan, but her stomach definitely bottomed out when Piz kissed her.

The sun was going down by the time she was done with class. When she pushed the door to Wallace's room open and found both Mac and Wallace waiting. "Any news?" she asked.

Mac nodded. "I found a pattern," she said, pointing to the wall. Wallace finished posting up the last letter.

Veronica walked up to the montage and traced a path between the letters with her fingers.

Just then Piz walked into the room, carrying a tray of coffees. Seeing the letters aligned on the walls, he left the coffees on the desk and approached. "What..."

"It started a few months back," Mac explained. "Printed letters in red envelopes, with a large starting font in red. Each letter has a few of the words capitalized in red. We started putting them back together chronologically."

"What does it say?" Piz asked, walking up to the wall. He tried building the puzzle up quicky but couldn't focus. "What does it say?"

Wallace read from his notebook. "There's so many dogs in your life, Veronica Mars. I'll get rid of them, one by one."

"One by one," Veronica repeated.

"The letters go back three months," Mac added.

Veronica turned to Mac. "Was there a name, a postmark, something?"

Mac shook her head. "They were drop-offs. It's someone in Neptune, who's been watching where you live and how for the past six months."

"Someone was tailing me," Veronica realized.

Piz looked down at the sheaf of letters he'd left on the dresser the previous day. "Red envelope," he whispered.

"What?" Wallace asked.

"Red envelope," Piz pointed. He opened it quickly, almost violently. Inside, another note. "One down."

"Is that all it says?" Veronica asked.

Piz nodded, handing her the letter. "No, wait. There's something else in the envelope."

Veronica snatched the envelope away and reached inside. She pulled out two fabric letters that looked like they belonged on a letterman's jacket. L.E. "Logan," she whispered.

**TBC...**

**Author's note:**

**Thanks for reading. As you may have noticed, I'm going into Piz's backstory little by little. My hopes are that this story may become the first in a short series of stories featuring this "universe", where Piz's family will come more and more into play. **

**Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: I just wanted to thank those of you who took the time to review. I feel welcome to the fandom. Sadly, this chapter is shorter than the previous ones, but the next ones are already written and will come sooner and longer. Ok, that sounded just a little bit dirty. Read on.**

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

**CHAPTER 3 - Party like it's 1979**

Veronica's eyes widened as she held the fabric letters that spelled out Logan's initials. The threat was evident.

"I'm calling him," Mac said, dialing quickly.

Veronica nodded, taking out her phone. "Dad? Yeah. Mac figured something out. Whoever this is, they're going after Logan. Yeah. Ok." Pause. "He's still living at the Neptune Grand." She hung up, quickly. "Dad's on his way."

Piz watched Mac hit re-dial furiously. "Logan's not picking up."

"Did it go to voicemail?" Veronica asked.

"Yeah," Mac answered.

"I'm going," Veronica said.

Wallace shook his head. "I'm betting your father said to stay put."

Veronica started grabbing things and sticking them in her purse. Taser. Pepper spray. A cellphone-like device. A GPS maybe? Piz just watched her quietly.

"Going where? You don't even know where Logan is right now," Mac said. "He might not be at the Grand."

"She does know," Piz said, watching her fiddle with the GPS-like apparatus. "You have a tracking device on him?"

"It's a long story," she said, picking up Piz's car keys. "I'm taking your car."

"And telling me that long story on the way to wherever," Piz added, following her out of the room.

"I'll stay here and keep calling," Mac called out.

Wallace nodded. "I'll ask around campus."

"Keep us posted," Piz called back, walking faster to keep up with Veronica.

- - - - - - - - -

"I'm driving," Piz declared, taking the keys from Veronica.

"Why?"

"So you can guide me with the GPS thing. I can't read those."

Veronica huffed. "I can read and drive at the same time," she muttered.

"Humor me," Piz replied. He pulled out of the campus parking lot and onto the main street. "Where to?"

"The Grand. Take a left on Peach."

He did. "Buckle up."

She did.

Silence.

"Can you see where it is? His cellphone?" Piz asked.

"Up to a point. Near the Neptune Grand, maybe in the hotel," Veronica answered. "But I can't be sure how close until we're in full range."

Piz nodded, cutting through traffic. Veronica had never seen him drive so fast. "So, tracking your ex's cellphone?"

"In my defense, he wasn't my ex when I planted the tracking device," Veronica attempted.

"I don't see how that works in your defense," Piz replied.

"Well, it came in handy, didn't it?"

Piz took a deep breath. "Have you planted one on me?"

"Nope." She sighed. "Take a right here."

Piz veered dangerously. "Now I don't know whether to be happy or disappointed."

"Because I haven't planted a tracking device on your cellphone?"

Piz shook his head every which way. "You know what? Just ignore me. This isn't important now."

"Good, yes, let's have it out later. Slow down," she said. "We're getting closer."

"Is he in the hotel?" Piz asked.

"His cellphone is. In his penthouse is my best guess."

"Is your dad on his way?"

"Should be."

Piz pulled into the parking lot, leaving the car in front of the valet service. Both he and Veronica jumped out of the car. "It's an emergency and I'm broke," he yelled out as he ran behind Veronica, tossing the Valet his keys.

He caught up with Veronica at the front desk. "We're here to see Logan Echolls," she said.

"The Echolls party, right?" The receptionist smiled. "I'll buzz you up," she said, pointing to the elevators.

Veronica's cellphone rang. "It's Wallace. Hey, Wallace." Silence. "Yeah, we're here, we just heard of the party too. Call my dad and tell him."

She hung up. "There's flyers all over campus announcing a party. The flyers are all red, and they all have pit-bulls drawn on them." Veronica started toward the elevators.

"We should wait for your father," Piz said, holding her back.

"It's a party. And I have a taser."

"Yes, and that guy had a knife. So he's obviously got the upper hand."

"You shouldn't have come if you couldn't handle it," Veronica said, keeping her stride.

"Those letters... Whoever is doing this is out to hurt you."

"And I'm out to hurt them. Let go," she countered. "You can stay here if you want."

"I don't want," Piz said, getting into the elevator behind her. "Strength in numbers, right?"

"Right."

"Fine."

"Fine."

- - - - - - - - - -

The elevator opened to the rave to end all raves that could fit into a penthouse apartment.

"What does the tracking thingy say?" Piz asked.

"The phone is here, in the apartment," Veronica answered. "He's probably not answering because of the music, right?"

"Right. Maybe if you'd installed an ankle bracelet..."

"Cool it."

"Let's find him before your dad gets here and breaks up the party. There's at least 70% of everything DARE ever warned my grade school about going on in here."

"Yeah, Dad doesn't have the authority to break up the party anymore."

"I think I see Dick over there," Piz pointed. Someone turned up the music all of a sudded. "He's the one diving off the stage."

Veronica didn't hear Piz but saw Dick fall onto the crowd, disappear, then saw his blonde hair flying up and down. They made their way through the densely packed, jumping crowd, past the amateur mosh pit.

"Dick!" Veronica yelled. Piz tapped his shoulder. Dick finally looked up from his shoes.

"Did you plan this party?" Veronica asked. Dick looked at her blankly. Veronica picked up two flyers from a nearby table and showed one to Dick. "You made this?" she yelled.

Dick shook his head, almost tripping in his effort. Veronica rubbed her temple. It was no use interrogating him now. She stuffed the flyers in her purse.

Piz tried a different approach. He snapped his fingers in front of Dick, calling for attention. "LO-GAN?" he mouthed.

"What?" Dick asked.

"LOGAN!" Veronica repeated.

"HIS ROOM!" Dick yelled back. Then, realizing Piz was there, he asked: "You're not gonna beat him up, are you?"

"NO!" Piz yelled.

"Good," Dick said, and continued his uninspired dancing.

Veronica led the way to Logan's bedroom. As much as he was trying to be oh-so-mature about it, the fact that Veronica could guide them to Logan's bedroom ate Piz up inside.

Veronica pushed the doors open and found only an empty bedroom. Suddenly, as if sensing space had opened up, the crowd invaded the room almost by osmosis. A couple started making out in Logan's bed, a few people started dancing around his TV set.

"I'll check the bathroom," Piz said, speaking into Veronica's ear.

"I'll go look in the kitchen," Veronica replied.

Piz made his way over to the bathroom, through a walk in closet. He knocked twice to no avail. Knocking made no sense. He pushed the bathroom door open, but found resistance. The door was jammed, but not locked.

There was weight against the door. Maybe Logan had passed out. He pushed a little harder, until the weight gave.

It was then when he saw it. The writing on the mirror that faced the door.

The phrase "Have a great summer" was written in red.

His eyes followed the drops of blood to the floor. And then he saw a hand.

Piz stepped in and found Logan, lying on the white tile, bleeding from his side.

Piz looked over the door, trying to spot Veronica to no avail. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. In the bathroom the music was still loud, but not impossibly so. He dialed 911 on his cellphone and looked around the bathroom for a towel. He found one and grabbed it, pressing it against the cut while he waited for the 911 operator to pickup.

"Yeah. I'm at the Neptune Grand, Penthouse level. Someone stabbed Logan Echolls. He's bleeding out," Piz said. The operator told him help was on the way and to stay on the line, but he couldn't keep a hold on his phone and on the towel at the same time.

He let his cellphone drop to the floor and heard the display shatter. He slapped Logan's face, trying to get him to regain consciousness. "Dammit, Logan, wake up."

Nothing.

"Come on, Logan," he muttered. Logan took a shallow breath and groaned. "Ok. Come on, keep being alive." Piz pressed even harder against the wound, with both hands this time.

Dick picked that precise moment to step into the bathroom to take a leak. "Man, you said you weren't gonna beat him up."

"Get Veronica," Piz ordered. "Now!"

TBC...

Enjoyed it? Let me know!

Thanks for reading.

Di.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's notes: Just a few words of thank you for stopping by and reading. Most of the reviews I've answered personally, and I just wanted to encourage you lurkers to let me know what you think, and to thank the reviewers for letting me know they are reading. And now, without further ado...**

**CHAPTER 4 - Menacing**

Veronica chewed on her fingernail as she watched the paramedics stabilize Logan. He was unconscious, but his vitals were back to normal and, as they brushed past Veronica with the stretcher, she debated for a second on whether to go with him or not.

Before she could finish making up her mind, Logan and the paramedics were in the elevator, and the doors closed.

"I got the exits sealed off and the police are interrogating everyone," Keith said, watching his daughter pace.

Veronica nodded slowly.

Keith Mars hugged his daughter and kissed her hair.

"He's lost a lot of blood, but he should be ok," she said, softly.

"Piz did good," Keith offered.

Veronica nodded. "Where is he?"

"Dick's bathroom. The other one got sealed as a crime scene."

Veronica gave her father a nervous glance and walked over to Dick Casablanca's room. Dick was sobering up with a cup of coffee and a deputy taking notes, so Veronica just stepped in quietly and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Come in," she heard, Piz's voice sounding distant to her pounding eardrums.

Piz had his hands under running water. The steam rising and fogging up the mirror told of how hot the water was.

Veronica stepped in and turned the cold tap on as well. Taking a bar of soap, she helped Piz lather his hands. Any other moment, any other place, a gesture like this would've been playful, generous. Now it was a matter of life and death. Piz could only stare at his hands in disbelief. Pinkish water swirled down the drain.

His voice was shaky as he spoke. "I thought he was dying. Five minutes before that I was thinking, I hate this guy, you know?" Piz said, his voice now a whisper, almost inaudible under the sound of the running water. "Then I walk in and he's bleeding. Logan could've bled to death."

"He didn't."

"But he could have."

"But he didn't," Veronica reassured him, her fingers running over his reddened hands. "The paramedics said he'd make a full recovery."

"He was surrounded by a hundred people and none of them noticed he was missing, no one knew he was dying," Piz kept on, astonished. "No one cared."

Veronica rinsed Piz's hands and grabbed a towel off the rack. She wrapped his hands in the towel and gently patted them dry. "We cared. You cared." Veronica took his face in her hands and forced him to look into her eyes. "He's going to be ok. Because of you." She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek softly. "Thank you."

Piz nodded, unsure of how to answer to that.

Veronica held his hands, and she could feel them shake. "Come on, let's go."

- - - - - - - - - - -

"You can pick up your car tomorrow morning. Hotel said they won't charge for the parking, they're afraid of getting bad press," Keith pointed out.

Piz nodded absently. He was too nervous to drive, and Veronica was too tired.

"I changed the locks at the house," Keith said, turning the corner. "And I installed a new surveillance system."

"The dorm room is fine, Mr. Mars," Piz said, his eyes fixed on the window.

Keith shook his head. "Nonsense. You're staying over tonight, Stosh. I don't want to have to tell your parents that their son got hurt playing detective."

"Dad," Veronica warned.

"I need to pick up some things," Piz said, defeated.

"We'll swing by the dorm, and I can take a look at those letters before we hand them over to the police," Keith conceded.

Wallace and Mac were waiting in the dorm room. Wallace paced, while Mac nervously chewed on her fingernails.

"Mr. Mars," Mac all but saluted. She hugged Veronica tightly.

"You heard?" Veronica asked.

Mac nodded. "It's all over school."

Veronica hadn't quite noticed it before, but in the dorm room's lighting, the blood stains on Piz's shirt were clearly visible. "I need to get..." he started. He walked around aimless for a minute until Wallace started helping him out with his duffel.

"He's still in shock. We're getting some stuff and going over to my house," Veronica explained to Mac in a whisper.

"You two might want to go home to your parents' tonight as well," Keith suggested to Wallace and Mac. "You've been seen with Veronica a lot, maybe it's better if you're extra careful these next few days." His celphone rang and Keith moved to answer it.

"I don't have anymore finals until Monday. It's not a bad idea," Mac said. "Grab your stuff, Wallace, I'll drive you."

Piz stuffed the small duffel with a couple of shirts and pants, underwear, his toothbrush. "Should I..." he asked, tugging at his t-shirt.

Veronica shook her head. "You can shower in the apartment."

"Logan's sedated but stable," Keith announced.. Everyone in the room took a deep, collective breath of relief. "He has an aunt in New York who's listed as next of kin, and they notified her an hour ago. The police should be able to talk to him tomorrow afternoon."

Veronica nodded. "We should go see him tomorrow morning."

"First things first," her father dictated. "Let's get through tonight."

Piz zipped up his bag and nodded. "I'm ready."

"Good. Now Mac," Keith said. "Show me what you found in the letters."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"Are you ok in there?" Veronica asked, knocking lightly on her bathroom door.

Piz took a deep breath. He'd finished showering over fifteen minutes ago, but he kept losing track of time. He stared at his hands and could still feel the warm blood running over them.

"Yeah, just... give me a minute," he said. He shook his head and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

"Ok," she said, her voice weak. "Dad made Mac and Cheese," she added.

Piz looked into the mirror. For a moment, he could almost deconstruct his own face and rebuild it. It was moments like these when he thought of his brother. With all the violence and danger out in the world, what if Pete was alone? What if no one could help?

He shook his head and tried to clear it of the voice that nagged him from time to time. And he stepped out of the bathroom.

- - - - - - - - - -

Piz volunteered to do the dishes but Keith shook his head and said he wouldn't have it. It wasn't often that Veronica allowed him the chance to take care of her and her friends. And he'd come to regard Stosh Piznarski as a good guy.

Of course, that didn't mean he would hide his frown as Veronica guided Piz into her room.

"I can take the couch," he heard Piz offer.

Veronica shot her father a pleading look and just said, "Nonsense," before closing the door behind her. Keith shook his head and went back to the dishes.

"Veronica," Piz started, but she shook her head.

"He'll get over it."

Piz nodded. "Hey, uh, can I borrow your phone to make a call? Same phone company," Veronica gave him a quizzical look. "Mine broke, on the floor of the bathroom. I left it there, you know, bloody hands."

Veronica handed him her phone. "Do you want me to..." she pointed to the door, motioning to step outside.

Piz shook his head and dialed. After two tones even Veronica head the slight click. "Hey, Iz. Yeah, it's me. Put mom on, will you?"

He smiled softly at Veronica before turning his attention back to the phone. "Hi. No, I'm fine, everything's fine. It's just... my phone died." A brief silence. "Don't know when I'll get a new one."

Veronica fidgeted with an inch of thread hanging from the hem of her t-shirt.

"You can..." He tapped Veronica's knee to get her attention then whispered. "Can I give them your number, just in case?" Veronica nodded and he mouthed a silent thankyou before he continued. "You can call this number if you need anything... Uh, my friend Veronica's."

He listened and rolled his eyes playfully, for Veronica's sake, putting on a small show. "Yes, ma'am."

He covered the receiver with his hand. "Says to say, Hi!"

He cringed when he heard something from the other side. "Yes, ma. Well lit place, proper chaperones, I'm a gentleman. Right." He pointed to the phone and tried to dismiss his mother's kookiness. Veronica laughed. "So, I should go. Uh-huh. I don't know if I'll get a chance to drive up there before the internship. The 4th of July?" He looked at Veronica. She looked back quietly. "Maybe. I'll look into it." He closed his eyes for a second. "Say hi to dad. Tell Iz I sent her something in the mail last week, ok? Bye."

"They miss you," Veronica teased, taking back her phone.

"They're insane. I can't drive to Oregon and back in a weekend. It's a 36-hour-drive from New York. It's sixteen hours from here," he pointed out.

"How far a drive is it to Langley?" she asked, planning to catch him off guard.

"Five hours and change. Depends on traffic," he replied. He looked back up at her, eyes wide. "It's not a stalkery thing, I just wanted to know if it was possible. Google Maps."

Veronica nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "You can say I'm your girlfriend, you know."

Piz rested his head against the wall and motioned for Veronica to sit closer. He wrapped an arm around her. She seemed so small sometimes. "I know. But if I had, my mom would've wanted to talk to you about china patterns."

"She's never met any of your girlfriends?" she asked.

"Nope. Not that there's been that many or, you know, extra serious."

"Oh, cool, you just engaged in casual sex in high school without your parents meeting these girls?" Veronica teased.

"I... uh... I mean... she didn't want to... you know... and so..."

"I'm kidding, Piz." Veronica kissed his shoulder. "If you left after your final on Tuesday, you could make it home."

Piz nodded. "I'm not leaving until I know you're safe. Not that I'm being of much assistance, but it wouldn't be right, you know?"

"If this thing keeps going like it's going, I might end up not going to the internship," Veronica whispered.

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," Piz replied, optimistically.

"And you know this how?"

"You're Veronica Mars. Last I heard, once Veronica Mars was on a case, it got solved quickly," Piz teased. Veronica smiled, tired. "You're worried about Logan? That they might go after him again?" he asked.

Veronica nodded slowly. "He's got a police escort at the hospital tonight and he's jacked up on painkillers, so he should be ok for tonight. But maybe whoever this is will try again."

"Well, you can warn him now, you know."

"He never takes my warnings quite so seriously," Veronica pointed out. "He's careless."

"Maybe he'll take the stab wound seriously."

Veronica shrugged. "Maybe."

"The paramedics said he'd be fine, right?" Piz asked again.

Veronica nodded. "If it had been worse... if he'd... I don't want to be in a fight with him."

"You don't have to be." Piz sighed. "Just... don't expect me to like the guy or be friends with him."

"And here I thought that you and Wallace needed another boy for your slumber party."

"Nah. Logan's hair is too short, we can't braid it."

She settled into the comfort of Piz's arms and closed her eyes. "Weren't we going to have a fight tonight?"

Piz smiled. "Yeah, what was that all about?"

"Uhm, planting a tracking device on your celphone," she said sleepily.

"No cellphone, no problem."

"Good. Don't feel like fighting right now."

"Yeah, get some sleep," he said, his hand on her back.

In a few minutes her breath had steadied and she was fully asleep.

But, as he stared at his hand moving up and down her back, soothing her, he could only see the blood that he'd stanched a few hours earlier. It took him a few hours to fall asleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

This time there was blood. The stench of it invaded his nostrils as, once again, the bed opened up and swallowed him whole.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"Shhh," she said, softly, brushing hair off his face. "You were screaming."

Piz narrowed his eyes in confusion. "I was?" He ran his hand over his forehead. He was sweating.

Veronica nodded. "Was it the blood?" she asked.

He looked at her, still disoriented, and slowly moved his head up and down. "It's this recurring dream I have... only now with blood."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Veronica started to ask, her face hovering over his, but she didn't finish her sentence. All of a sudden, Piz's demeanor had changed. He pulled himself up and kissed her mouth hungrily. It was as if he was trying to hold on to her, afraid that she might vanish into thin air.

She didn't know exactly how it happened, but the next thing she knew he was on top of her, his weight delicious on her thin frame, his skin warm against her. His mouth kept tugging at her lips, at her neck. Her legs at either side of him, he caressed them over the thin fabric of her pajama pants.

"What just happened?" she asked, softly, between kisses.

"I just needed... I needed you close," he whispered, avoiding her eyes.

She sighed, her hands running over his forehead. "I know what this is. It's called evasion."

"I learned from the master," he whispered, taking her mouth with his.

She pushed him back for just a moment. "Don't... don't learn that from me." She traced his lips with her fingers. "Promise."

He felt the heavyness of the moment between them and he pressed his forehead to hers. "I promise." He felt her eyelashes brush against his skin. He was falling so hard... "After this nightmare is over, I'll tell you all about my nightmares."

He felt a change in her, a shift in the way she looked at him. The innocent in him hoped it meant that maybe she was starting to feel what he felt. Her presence consumed him. His hands wandered over her body, tracing curves, dipping and rising. His senses overwhelmed by her scent, her taste, the tiny moans that caught in the back of her throat. He was aroused beyond sanity and he had to stop and take a deep breath. "We should stop," Veronica said. She could feel him, hard against her, and she could feel herself coming closer to a point of no return.

He nodded. "It's not the day or the place," he admitted.

He knew that, whatever else they were, they were young, and there wouldn't be an appropriate place, a perfect time. But this moment was all wrong.

"Deep breaths," Veronica whispered.

Piz smiled and repeated her wisdom. "Deep breaths," he whispered back, disentangling himself from between her legs.

On opposites side of the bed, fingers entwined, they fell asleep.

- - - - - - - - - - -

He woke to an empty bedroom.

Spending a moment to get his bearings, he rubbed his face with his hands and found a piece of paper stuck to his forehead.

He took a second to focus on it and read it with a smile. "Breakfast outside."

Piz peeked his head out of the room and looked around. No Mr. Mars in sight. Veronica sat on the kitchen stool in shorts and a t-shirt, taking notes and typing into her laptop.

"The coast is clear. Dad's meeting us at the hospital," she said, without looking his way. He smiled to himself.

"Morning," he said, walking up to her. She looked up from her papers and offered her lips for a kiss. He backed away, trying to spare her. "Uh, morning breath," he said, pointing to himself.

"Coffee," she said, pointing to the pot on the counter.

Piz poured himself a cup. He took two quick sips and bent down to kiss her. She hummed against his mouth. "Coffee breath," she whispered.

He smiled and looked over her shoulder. "Those are the flyers from yesterday?"

She nodded, handing him one. "I want to get a few facts straight before we go in to talk to Logan."

"Uhm... we?"

"Need a wing-man," Veronica said, biting her lower lip. "You push his buttons. People are more honest when they're angry."

"Great. Good thing he's hospitalized," Piz muttered. He scanned over the flyer a couple of times. "I know this dog. I mean, the drawing of this dog."

"How?" Veronica asked.

"May I?" he asked, his fingers approaching her keyboard.

"Go ahead."

Piz typed a few words into a search engine.

He scrolled through a couple of pages of listings until he hit what he was looking for.

"Look," he said, turning the screen towards Veronica.

"Is that... A Hearst Sweatshirt?"

Piz smiled. "A vintage Hearst Sweatshirt. They changed it in 1983 because the whole dog-motif was too similar to the Bulldog from University of Georgia." He explained. "When I was looking through the athletic program before coming here, I hit a couple of records sites, for the stats. Hearst was big with track and field during the seventies. So the pitbull was on tons of pictures."

"Have I told you how much you rock lately?" Veronica said, taking notes and looking at the pictures.

"I still have those sharpies, for whenever you want that autograph."

"I'll have to take you up on that later. Now we gotta go interview my hospitalized ex boyfriend."

Piz groaned. "Let me go change into something more menacing."

- - - - - - - - - -

"A Death Cab for Cutie T-shirt? That's menacing?" Veronica asked, standing outside Logan's door while they waited for Keith Mars to arrive.

"He'll throw out the emo-card as soon as I walk in the door, just you watch," Piz answered.

"I can hear you outside," Logan's voice carried from inside the room. "Can you cut the cuteness and just come inside?"

Veronica pursed her lips and pushed the door open. "We were waiting for my father, but I'm so glad you're feeling better," she said, trying to remain emotionless.

"Yeah, I can tell," Logan said. "Oh, how nice of you, you brought me a puppy," he added, gesturing towards Piz.

"Hey, man. Good to see you're alive," Piz attempted.

"They tell me I have you to thank for that. I'll send flowers," Logan replied.

Piz stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "I'm more of a chocolate and candy kind of guy."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Enough, boys." She took out her notebook and a pen and smiled at Logan as icily as she could. "So, you wanna know why you were shivved?"

"I'd rather know how come you two knew I was going to be attacked yet didn't make it in time to prevent it," Logan answered.

Veronica pulled out one of the flyers. "Recognize this?"

"Yeah, they were for last night's party. Some idiot took it upon himself to announce a party at my apartment. Dick thought, what the hell, they're here for a party, let's have a party." Logan winced in pain. "Hurts when I breathe?"

"Want something to drink?" Piz offered, before he could stop himself. He had this equation in his mind, which went something along the lines of sick person = offer them water. Intinct always kicked in at the worst times.

Logan rolled his eyes and looked pointedly at Veronica. "Why did you bring him here?"

Veronica chose not to acknowledge that while Piz handed Logan a glass of water. "So..." Veronica continued. "Anything about the flyer stand out?"

Logan shrugged. "The dog, I guess. I mean, if the alumni association was throwing a party, they'd get classier digs, right?"

"Alumni association?" Veronica asked.

"Yeah, the Hearst Alumni Association. They still put the pitbull on their newsletters, I think. My father used to get them," Logan explained. "I still don't understand what this is about."

"Someone killed Backup two nights ago," Veronica said, formally wiping the grin off Logan's face. "So we started looking into our hate mail and found a pattern, a threat from one source. To me. Saying they were out to get... they're trying to get to me through those I care about."

"Care about. That's a nice way to put it," Logan whispered, his eyes fixed on Veronica's.

"The threats date about six months back," Veronica started. "Can you think of anyone..."

"Gee, Veronica, let me thing. People who have it out for you. Now that's a tough one," Logan brought the facade back up again.

"Did you get a look at whoever stabbed you?" Piz asked, feeling thta the conversation was about to get ugly.

"No, Jr. Detective, I didn't get a good look. Someone grabbed me from behind and stuck a handkerchief in front of my nose. The next thing I remember is you slapping me and then the ambulance crew. Thanks for the slap, by the way," Logan pointed out.

"If you need another one, you know where to look," Piz retorted.

Veronica shook her head. "Think, Logan. Did you see anyone strange, anyone wearing a shirt with the pitbull logo, anyone weird sidling up to you? Anything?"

Logan looked at his hands and shook his head. "Ronnie, I was drunk, ok? Half the freshman class was there, and they just kept piling in. People were coming and going all night. The only person who's threatened me in the last month, that Gorya guy, I didn't see him."

Piz swallowed hard at the endearment, but knew better than to say anything. "I'm gonna be outside," he said, smiling awkwardly. "Do you want anything? Coffee?"

Veronica smiled up at him and shook her head.

He closed the door behind him as he left, and found Keith Mars waiting outside the door. "So you two went in without me?" he asked.

"Yeah, uh, Logan heard Veronica and I talking outside the room," Piz answered, stammering apologetically. "We figured we might as well go in." He pointed to the door once and shrugged. "I think they needed to talk alone."

Keith nodded in understanding. "Stosh, let me tell you something," he said, guiding them both to the chairs in the waiting area. "Things with those two have always been complicated. You're a good guy, but..." Keith explained.

"So I've been told," Piz replied. "It's general knowledge that me and my kind finish last."

"I'm not done," Keith said, glancing at Piz sideways. "At the end of the day, it doesn't matter if you're a good guy, or if they have a history. It all comes down to what she needs. She's the only one who can figure it out."

Piz nodded slowly.

"That said, she seems to trust you. And that, in and of itself, is nothing short of a miracle," Mr. Mars added.

Piz felt just a bit of pride swell inside him. "I'm gonna go back in there. Veronica thinks we can get something out of him."

Keith nodded, knowing he'd get to Logan later.

Piz entered the room quietly. He could see Veronica was visibly shaken, her hands fisted at her sides.

"You're just trying to kick away the feeling of guilt. Well, I don't care..." Logan finished. "Look, he's back, wagging his tail," Logan said. "Hey, Piz, aren't you just a little jealous I'm the one who got stabbed? I mean, it's gotta mean something that they thought to get to her through me." His smile widened. "Not through you."

"I don't know if you noticed, but you could have bled to death in your own apartment, surrounded by two-hundred people," Piz said, his voice measured. "So, no, I'm not jealous of you. Not anymore."

Logan looked over at Veronica, looking for her to intervene, but she looked at him with eyes full of fire, and he knew then that this was no ordinary fight. "We were together for over two years," Veronica started. "You have no family in town. Yet you never listed me as your next of kin. All we've been through and I wasn't even on the shortlist, Logan. You say I don't trust you, but you didn't trust me either. Even to be a friend, you need trust. Someday we might be friends again. But right now, I just need information from you. So, if you think of something before my father gets stabbed, I'd be really grateful," Veronica said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

She turned on her heel to go, but Logan's voice stopped her. "Ronnie, stop." With her back to him, she paused for half a second. "You should ask Dick?"

It was Piz's turn to ask, in disbelief, "Dick?"

Veronica turned to face Logan. "Dick was drunk last night."

"You should know by now that Dick is not what he appears to be, not exactly. At parties, he's never as drunk as he looks," Logan explained through clenched teeth. "Ask him. He might remember something."

Veronica nodded. "I'm sorry this has to be so hard," she said, her voice smaller than she ever wanted it to be.

"Me too," he said, watching her go.

Piz stayed behind a moment watching Logan. For a second he thought it would be a good moment to inflict emotional pain, to chew him out for hurting Veronica, but he could see that Logan was hurt also. And he thought of what Veronica had said, about not learning about silence and revenge from her.

"She means it," Piz said. "About being your friend again, someday. And from what I saw the last night, you could use a few friends."

Logan nodded, slowly. Now that Veronica was gone, the pretense of insult was unnecesary. "I'll call if anything pops up. Just... take care of her?" he asked.

Piz agreed silently, exiting the room.

Veronica and Keith Mars were waiting outside the door. "To the Neptune Grand, I guess," Piz said.

Veronica nodded. "Let's go find Dick," she added.

Keith looked from Piz to Veronica and back. "I'm going to hang around until Logan's aunt shows up. You two just... stick together."

"We'll meet tonight and go over what we've found," Veronica replied, kissing her father goodbye.

"Be careful," Keith called as they walked away.

**TBC...**

Soooo.... please tell me what you think!

di


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: Just a warning – welcome to a transitional, smutty chapter, in which little happens by way of action and then some stuff happens by way of, uh, action. So, remember, rated M.**

**CHAPTER 5 - Appearances**

"Dick always knows more than he lets on," Veronica muttered, the doors of the Neptune Grand elevator closing behind them.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't let on much," Piz replied. Embarrassed, he looked at his feet. "Sorry, that was... catty, wasn't it? I don't even know him much."

"Ooh, catfight between you and Dick? Wouldn't that be fun for the whole family," Veronica said, bumping his hip with hers.

"Yeah, real fun." Piz scratched the back of his neck. Slowest elevator ever. "Do you want to talk about... the hospital... you know..."

Veronica shrugged, looking at the floor. "Not..." she coughed softly. "Not right now."

"Ok."

"Slowest elevator ever."

"Yeah."

- - - - - - - -

"Veronica Mars. What brings you to this humble, blood-stained abode?" Dick greeted them, wearing a bathrobe, probably only a bathrobe.

"I see that word-a-day calendar is really working out for you," Veronica threw back. She took a deep breath and held up her hand, hoping to stop his coming retort. "We could go at this all day, have on previous occasions, so let's just skip the trailers and go to the main feature?"

"Sure," Dick said, walking past them towards the couch, where he sat, legs open.

"Uh, dude... your robe," Piz said, motioning for Dick to close it.

"Nothing she hasn't seen before," Dick replied.

"Maybe, but I don't know you that well," Piz reasoned.

Dick laughed and cinched his robe tighter, sitting up. "I like this one, Mars. Spunky."

"Glad you approve, Dick," Veronica said, taking a seat. Piz sat beside her, feeling, once again, like a third wheel. "We just stopped by Logan's hospital room. He sends his love."

"I talked to him, ok?" Dick said, angry. "He knows I hate hospitals since..."

"Sorry," Veronica whispered. "Just... let's start over. The person who stabbed Logan is looking to get to me. They killed my dog, Dick. So I was wondering if you remember something from last night's party or if you picked up on anything strange."

"Strange like what?" Dick asked.

Veronica took one of the flyers from her purse and handed it to him. "See that Pit-bull? Do you remember anyone wearing a t-shirt with it or maybe a ring?"

Dick looked at it intently. "Nah. But there were a couple of guys who looked older. Maybe from the Alumni Association?"

"Why does everyone know this Pit-bull is from the Alumni Association?" Veronica asked, surprised.

"Rush," Dick answered, matter-of-factly.

"Like, Fraternity Rush?" Piz asked.

"Right," Dick explained. "Every fraternity has brothers from previous generations. Pictures from, like, the stone age. Anyways. During rush week, they ask pledges to memorize shit like names, basketball stats, fight songs. The pit-bull is on every sweatshirt from the seventies, and the older brothers wear them. Sometimes they get handed down. You know, if your dad was a frat boy and he gives you his sweatshirt..."

Veronica gave Dick the widest of smiles. "You, Dick, have made my day."

"I hear that all the time," Dick answered, smiling as well.

Veronica frowned at his immaturity. "One more question. Did you see anyone hanging around Logan? Someone with bulky clothing?"

"Like a fat girl?" Dick asked.

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Clothes that could hide a knife and a small bottle of chloroform."

"I didn't really notice any of that. The girls that were hanging around Logan didn't really have anywhere to hide anything, if you catch my drift," Dick answered, laughing.

"Oh, I catch it, alright," Veronica said, grinning through gritted teeth. "I hate to say this, Dick, but you've been awfully helpful." She stood up to leave.

"Don't tell anyone," Dick added, as Piz stood up. "Neither of you."

- - - - - - - -

"Hey, Mac, listen," Veronica said into her phone. "Yeah, I need you to go through the fraternity rosters, see who's a second or third generation frat. The older generation must be pre-seventies." Veronica smiled into the phone as they walked through the parking lot. "Exactly. Follow the pit-bull trail. See if you can find any connection between those lists and what we have on The Castle. I'll call you tonight, we can meet at your parents."

Veronica hung up to find Piz standing in the spot where her car had been parked. "I'm not crazy, am I?" Piz asked, looking around. "You parked here."

"Someone just fucking stole my car!"

- - - - - - - - -

"We're being followed," Veronica stated, sitting on the pavement of the parking lot, legs crossed.

"I don't think your father meant to stay put in this exact spot," Piz said, looking around. "We could go sit in my car."

"Uh-uh. I'm not moving until the police get here. You see, I need a game plan. I don't have a game plan. And some fucker's following me... us. So I'm just going to stay right here and psych him out."

Piz sat down on the ground beside her. He pulled a weed growing out of the pavement and started playing with it. "You know we're prime bait for a sniper, right? Unobstructed view, tall buildings all around..." Veronica glanced at him, eyes narrowed. "My dad likes action movies," he explained.

Veronica placed a hand on Piz's knee, a sign that she was about to explain something to him. "Whoever this is, he likes power, control. I say he because it's more likely, though he may have a female accomplice. He attacks with knives, which means he wants contact with the victim. He also wants us to be alert to his presence. That's why he took the car." Veronica pointed to the parking building across the street. "He's probably up there, watching. If nothing else, he'll ditch the car soon enough. I'll put Eli on to it, and maybe we can get some clues out of it."

Piz stopped playing with the blade of grass and took her hand in his. "You weren't kidding when you said you were good at this."

She shrugged. "It's my life." She touched his knee again, and he was coming to understand this as a habit. "It's like you with the radio. You went out there and got your show. You book guests. You're doing this huge internship. It's your life."

"Can I tell you a secret?" he asked, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it.

She smiled, absently. "Of course you can."

Piz smiled mischievously. "It may be career suicide after this year's internship not to attempt to work or intern at Pitchfork next year as well, but if I have the chance, next summer, I'm going to travel."

"Travel?"

Piz gestured wildly, with her hand still twined in his. "Hit the road, with my car, and just... assassinate my car. Make it all the way up to Anchorage and back. Play guitar in parks and train stations for cash, beg for food. Do... whatever." His eyes lit up. "I just feel... I need to get to know the country better if I ever really want to talk about it."

Veronica smiled. "Why is this a secret?" she asked, puzzled.

"You're the first person I've told... it's still a year away... don't want to jinx it."

"So why tell me?"

Piz shrugged. "I guess... you're the only person who I've thought of inviting along."

Veronica's mouth made a surprised Oh.

"Not that I don't think Wallace would enjoy it, but I think he sees enough of me already, though maybe you do, too. And it's not something I'd ask my cousins along for, they'd want to drink every night and pass out and we'd never make it past Portland. But you, I could see you on the road." Piz looked out past the parking lot, to an invisible horizon blocked by cars and buildings. "I think you'd enjoy it and I'd enjoy seeing the country with you, and maybe you could use time away from being Detective Mars." He sighed, shaking his head. "Anyway, it's a pipe dream, and you'll probably be busy with Bureau affairs. Just don't tell Wallace I asked you, he might throw a hissy fit."

"You ramble like the best of us," Veronica pointed out. "And you're right, it's a year away, anything can happen in a year, but..." she watched as his eyes closed, expecting the worse. "I'm... flattered... no, that seems like the wrong word. I'm... honored that you thought of me."

He shrugged. "We'd have fun, I think."

"We would," Veronica admitted, a smile on her lips. "Your secret's safe with me."

Keith Mars' car drove up to them. Keith stuck his head out the window, and looked at his daughter, trying to make light of the situation. "Car trouble?"

Veronica spread her fingers in the air. "You have no idea."

- - - - - - - - - - -

Piz drove slowly, his car tailed by Keith and Veronica at close distance.

He was driving slowly on purpose. This was the first time alone he'd had in days, and he needed a little time to think. Stab wounds, blood, police, grand theft auto, all of these were things he hadn't been exposed to growing up. He wasn't sure what he thought of all this. He'd told Veronica he didn't want to be pushed away by her, but he could feel a gap between them, differences that became white water rapids between them, and he wasn't sure he had all it took to build the bridge over it. He wasn't sure if she'd want to.

Also, he liked to think that Veronica was exasperated by his car speed. He took a wrong turn on purpose too, smiling to himself.

At first, he'd gotten her all wrong. He'd thought that maybe he could build the bridge on his own. If she wouldn't meet him halfway then he'd go the distance. But he wasn't strong enough, he figured. And not only did she not meet him halfway, she kept widening the gap.

But today he'd felt... a difference. He'd been measuring everything with the wrong yardstick. It wasn't about distance, about different lifestyles. It was a matter of immersion. If he wanted Veronica, he had to go all in, lay it all on the line, and hope that he wouldn't get run over in the process.

What her father had said, about trust... maybe that was the key. Maybe, if he let it all out in the open, his quirks – which truth be told he'd never been good at hiding – and his secrets, maybe she would decide to step inside, maybe she'd give him a real chance.

When he finally parked in front of Veronica's apartment building, she was out of the car glaring at him through narrowed eyes. "You drive like my grandma. You have some high-risk driving lessons to take if you want to make the next great american road trip."

"Good to know," he said, stepping out of the car. He kissed her full on the lips, his mouth hungrily consuming hers, regardless of her father's proximity, of the recent events. He was ready to put everything out on the line.

Her eyes, full of surprise, seemed to understand. "Ok," she said, the back of her hand against her wet mouth, hiding a smile.

"Ok," Piz replied. "Come on, let's go inside."

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Let's go over what we know," Mac said, depositing her backpack on the floor of the Mars kitchen.

Keith shook his head. "Am I mistaken, or did I ask all you kids to stay home and lay low for a few days?" he asked, watching the popcorn bag inflate in the microwave.

"You know we can't stay away, Mr. Mars," Wallace joked. "Once Veronica puts up the bat-signal..."

"Right. Well, I called the police again and your car is nowhere to be found," Keith added. "Courtesy of Sheriff Van Lowe."

"The lowest of the low," Veronica quipped. "Did Leo give you any trace results on the tranq they used on Backup?"

"Lab's backed up, though it's probably a generic. We won't know for sure until next week," Keith answered. "Now, looking into it, Leo did find that they didn't use a syringe, but a tranq gun. He's tracking down manufacturers. He says that since Logan was the victim of assault, the police have started to look into that. They've been asking all the right questions to all the wrong people." Keith took a sip of coffee. "Vinnie's probably going to want to question Piz." He pulled the popcorn bag out of the microwave and set in front of the kids on the counter.

Piz looked up from his soda. "What for? I didn't see anything."

"Sweet, innocent Piz," Veronica said with a smile. "You're the prime suspect."

Piz looked around at the four nodding heads and tried hard not to snort out his drink. "I stabbed Logan, then tried to stop him from bleeding to death, hid the knife, visited him in the hospital to gloat, then went to Dick's today to retrieve the knife?"

"He's a fast learner," Wallace said, patting his friend in the back. "By the way, you also killed her dog. And that, my man, is cold."

"Where did I get the tranq gun? The chloroform? When did I learn these extreme knifing skills?"

"These are things that matter not, Piznarski," Veronica said, doing a wise, wax-in-wax-out routine. "What matters is what is in your heart. That, and you're a southpaw."

Piz sighed. "I always knew that would come in handy someday," he said, sarcastic.

"Stab wound went in the wrong direction," Veronica points out, making a stabbing gesture with a pen. "See? Right-handed does this... Left-handed does this." Piz scratched his forehead. "Don't worry babe, I'll testify in your favor."

"Honey, you're hardly a character witness," Keith opined.

"And, we switch subjects. So, we found out that Dick and Logan did not organize the party. The Pit-bull on the flyer used to be the Hearst emblem for all things sporty, up until 1985, right?"

Piz took over for her. "Dick mentioned that during fraternity Rush, most pledges learn about the Pit-bull mascot. Also, most of the fraternities have "older brothers" who own sweatshirts and school paraphernalia with the mascot on."

"I think The Castle must be involved somehow," Veronica pointed out. "Maybe Gorya... he did threaten to kill Logan. And The Castle's been around for thirty years... So it stands to reason they'd know the old school emblem."

Mac gritted her teeth and sighed shakily. "There's only one hole in that theory, Veronica," she said, turning her laptop screen to face everyone. "Gorya was shot last night out by the projects. They say it was a drug sale gone bad."

Veronica approached Mac's screen, looking closely. "Is that..." she started, pointing out to the blood-stained pictures the Morning Star had published in its' crime website.

"That's the pit-bull on his t-shirt," Mac said.

"What time," Veronica asked, scanning the article.

"Midnight," Mac said, pointing to a spot in the article.

Veronica bit down hard on her lower lip. "He might still have done it and then... Plenty of time, but..."

"What are you thinking, honey?" Keith asked.

"Same thing you are, dad." Veronica looked up. "Gory was expendable. They're either trying to scare me or trying to frame me. They knew I wouldn't call the police about Backup, they know I have more than a few hairs to split with Gorya... It's got to be The Castle." Her hands balled up into fists. "It has to be Jake Kane."

"This is more than we can handle, Veronica," Wallace pointed out. "If they killed Gorya, one of their own..."

"We don't know any of this for sure," Keith said. "I'll put an ear to the ground at the Sheriff's department, see what I get. You two kids are going home and I'm escorting you." He looked at Piz. "And you should go back to Oregon, until all this blows over."

"Dad, how can you be so calm about this? We should be escorting you! You could be the next victim," Veronica explained.

Keith walked up to his daughter and kissed her forehead. "They already got me where it hurts. They took my job, they're scaring my kid. I'm not going to stand for it, but I'm not going to get any of you kids hurt either."

"All due respect, sir, we're not kids," Piz said. "I mean, yeah, we might not have it together yet, and I can't speak for everyone, but I do think there's strength in numbers. We can watch out for each other. And if this Castle business is as big as Mac and Veronica uncovered, who's to say they don't get me in Oregon? Or they don't come into Wallace's home while his brother is sleeping?"

The room was quiet, everyone absorbing Piz's words. "If it wasn't for Mac and Wallace, you'd still be sitting around sorting mail. You don't have the police resources anymore, but you have us. So let me help. Let us help."

Keith Mars looked straight into Piz's eyes. Something had changed since their earlier conversation. He seemed more confident, more determined. "I can't in good conscience put any of you in harms' way."

Piz fought the urge to turn his eyes to the floor. "I'm volunteering."

"I'm game," Wallace added.

Mac stood up with a smile. "I'm tech support."

Keith shook his head, a laugh in the back of his throat.

"Face it, Dad. You can't beat 'em, so you're gonna have to join 'em," Veronica said, giving her father a gentle pat on the back. "Popcorn, anyone?"

- - - - - - - - - -

Veronica and Mac sat on the top step of the apartment building, watching their surroundings. Inside, the TV set showing some sport show or another made a low hum. Maybe that was what hypnotized Keith, Wallace and Piz.

"You're scared," Mac said, just a statement.

The only good thing about her part of town, Veronica mused, was the breeze coming in from the sea. When it was hot and sunny, it would blow sand onto her skin. But on balmy nights, it made up for it. Now, as they waited for Mac's father to come pick her and Wallace up and drive them back home, Veronica thanked her lucky and unlucky stars for the wind.

"I'm scared," she recognized.

"I know you're not a big fan of this," Mac said, placing an arm around Veronica. "But you're just gonna have to deal with the fact that I'm hugging you."

Veronica smiled, leaning into Mac's shoulder. "I'm going soft. We're going soft."

"About time."

"What did you tell your dad?" Veronica asked.

"I told him I needed to come over here with Wallace and that my car broke down," Mac explained. "He was actually excited that I'd asked him to drive my friend and I over." She rolled her eyes. "He feels out of the loop."

"He _is_ out of the loop," Veronica pointed out.

"Well, he was glad. He was all, like, you're still my little girl," Mac added. "Cutesy-crap."

"My dad does it too, sometimes. They get mushy in old age."

Mac shrugged. "He must feel odd, being ganged up on by teenagers."

"He's used to it by now," Veronica replied. "I don't think he expected it from Piz, though."

"I don't think Piz expected it from Piz," Mac countered.

Veronica smiled. "Yeah. He's... full of surprises."

"Like, Surprise! I killed my grandma?"

"Ok, surprise is the wrong word. He's more of an acquired taste."

"He's grown on you."

"He has," Veronica answered. "It's weird."

"A good weird?"

"A good weird."

Mac pointed towards the road. "There it is."

Veronica squinted at the darkened alley. "The camper?"

"Turns out, the family car broke down too." Mac shrugged. "What are you gonna do?"

- - - - - - - - - -

"So, just to make sure, our game plan for tomorrow is..." Wallace asked as he gave Piz a handshake.

"Veronica talks to Weevil about her car and hits the Morning Starr about the shooting, Mac starts looking into The Castle files again, you study for your finals, I have a morning shift at the radio and a show, so we hit the frat houses at noon." Piz shrugged. "Frat boys should be up by then, right?"

"Who knows, man?" Wallace shrugged. "I'll swing by the station at noon."

"Cool."

"I'm out of a job," Keith Mars said, walking back to the kitchen.

"You're on Sheriff's department detail tomorrow, and you're hitting the projects about the shooting," Veronica said. "That's a full day right there."

"Don't you miss when I was running things?" Keith asked.

"I do, pops. But the times, they are a'changin."

He rolled his eyes.

"We'll meet up here tomorrow night," Veronica called after Mac, who waved goodbye.

Piz felt a little out of sorts, being the only non-local, with no family to go home to right this moment.

But just then Veronica tucked her arm around his waist and smiled. "You're a brave man, Piznarski," she whispered, her father just out of earshot. He couldn't help but smile.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"All done," Veronica said, her hands up in the air, victorious. "If I read one more word about the femme fatale on noir film I'm going to burst into a thousand tiny Humphrey Bogarts." She closed her book and tossed it aside.

"That's harsh," Piz said, looking up from his textbook. "Why are you taking film class again?"

"It's not just any old film class. It's Crime and Punishment: How film shapes our views on justice."

"Ah."

"Yeh."

Piz smiled. "I'd ask you to quiz me on this, but Ortega y Gasset is obscure."

"Ortega and Gasset?"

"Ortega y Gasset. One man, double-barreled last name."

"Yes, obscure. What class is that?"

"Philosophy and Communications," Piz answered. "I'm pretty sure universities just want us to fail in the real world." He considered, tilting his head to the side. "Actually, that's not really fair. Ortega y Gasset goes into the discussion that humans have "no nature, but history" when it came to understanding societies, reasoning."

"Do you believe that?" Veronica asked.

Piz took a second to collect his ideas, but they still spilled forth with little restraint. "I think, as human beings, we group by instinct, survival which ultimately became societal. But once we built societies, what we've become is a perpetuation on rules set and events. The societies that fail, more often than not, have no historic memory. This might be because a dictatorship denies access to information or, you know, erases historical figures from pictures, or because to maintain the status quo it is not in the best interest of government to allow people education, therefore they don't get a historic perspective on the events that happen. These societies get caught in a never-ending cycle of making the same mistakes over and over again, electing the same type of leaders under different flags." He took a breath. "You take history away, you just keep digging yourself into the same hole."

Veronica watched him, silent.

"That was a little too much, wasn't it?" he asked, looking back down at his textbook. "I could go on to say how much media can influence on this situation, but you can see where I'm going."

"So you think people can change?"

He looked her square in the eyes, because he knew she was asking something else this time, something unrelated to politics and society.

"I think... I think if someone makes an effort to look back and spot the things he or she can change to get back on the path they want to go, yeah, people can change." He shrugged. "I guess it's just that we just keep looking forward to avoid all the rocks on the road, trying not to trip, we forget to look back to figure out the pattern." Piz tapped his fingers on his book. "It's all just crap anyway. I believe in contradicting ideas all the time."

"Like what?"

"Like right now I said people don't look back enough, but really maybe we look back too much. Maybe it's that we just look wrong, we look at all we leave behind, but not at how it forms us." Piz let his book down and walked over to the bed to sit next to Veronica. "My grandmother was, you know, die-hard Polish Catholic. She used to make us read the bible all the time. And there was this one story I couldn't ever understand. Do you remember the story of Lot's wife?"

Veronica shook her head no. "My grandma told me to avoid the bible like the plague."

Piz chuckled. "Well, here goes the plague. Sodom and Gomorra, remember those?"

"I vaguely remember going to High School in one of those."

"Didn't we all?" Piz asked. "Anyway, God's gonna burn them down, and he tells Abraham, who asks if he can save Lot and his family. Lot is his cousin or something. So God tells Abraham, sure, go ahead, what the hey, right?"

Veronica nodded. The story sounded vaguely familiar.

"I might be remembering this wrong, I used to have an illustrated, abridged Bible version, so I'm sure I'm mixing and matching. Plus, I watched lots of Bible cartoons when I was a kid. Anyhow, the day the city is going to be destroyed, Lot tells his wife to pack up the kids and the things and to go, and some angels come to guide them. The only instruction God has sent is to not look back."

"But she does," Veronica completed.

"She does. And God turns her into a pillar of salt."

They sat in silence for a moment. Piz looked at his hands reflecting on how to explain the last part of his thoughts. "I would have looked back. And I never understood why Lot didn't look back to see what had happened to his wife." He shrugged. "But he didn't and, biblically, we are the sons and daughters of those survivors, who never looked back. It stands to reason that we don't look at our past in flames and learn from it."

Veronica smiled with a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I'm sure if you published these thoughts online, you'd be eaten alive."

"If I ever published this online, I'd have to do a fact check first, interview biblical experts, go pro. So I'm trusting you to keep this ramble between us," Piz said.

"Only if you promise to tell me if you ever post it, so I can do the whole First! cry on the comments section."

"I'm betting Mac will be the one to post the pwned comment," Piz added, laying down on Veronica's bed, his arms crossed behind his head.

"No, that will be Wallace," Veronica said, curling up against him. "He doesn't look it, but he has a very active online life."

"And here I thought he just used that computer for good," Piz joked, brushing his lips against Veronica's forehead.

"Nah. He's evil," she whispered, mischief in her eyes. "Pure evil."

- - - - - - - - - - -

They hadn't meant to take it so far, but one thing had led to another had led to Piz taking Veronica's top off.

Both shirtless and breathless and trying to make as little noise as possible... it was getting ridiculous.

Piz kissed his way down her neck, his hands brushed the side of her breasts softly. "Mmm," Veronica hummed, lips pursed, eyes closed.

He'd changed his mind again. He liked her eyes closed. It meant he was doing things right. He moved back up to her mouth. He had started making lists. Things he loved. The feeling of her breasts against his bare skin. Almost kissing her and waiting for her to protest, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"We should..." he started, but she silenced him with a kiss. Somehow, she managed to flip them over. Her legs at either side of his hips, her body flush to his, he was pretty sure this was listed as torture by the Geneva Convention.

His hips bucked forward in anticipation, and he couldn't help feeling embarrassed and inexperienced. He wasn't a virgin but he'd never been a player, and his experience was limited. Veronica's sole presence already made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, but this...

Veronica bit her lip as she felt Piz beneath her, hard. She moved her hips forward just a little, feeling his length against her. She smiled mischievously as he closed his eyes and groaned. She did it again, her center pressing against him, the thin barrier of underclothes leaving them with the sensation of a distant ache that they couldn't quite place.

She brought her hands down at either side of his face and kissed him, her tongue drawing a slow, languorous pace. He responded by running his hands down her back, to her bottom, caressing her through the thin cotton. His body moved to the rhythm her mouth set, and he found that his hips moved in tune with hers, slowly. He wanted to slow them down, to stop, if for no other reason than keeping his sanity and a semblance of self control. But she had other ideas.

Her hips kept moving, her voice catching in her throat.

"Veronica," he whispered, a prayer, a request. His mouth took control of their rhythm, slowing them. Sitting up, he pushed himself away from her just enough. She whimpered at the loss of contact, but his lips kept covering hers. His large hands traveled down her body, his thumbs catching on her hard nipples, his fingers counting her ribs.

The first time she felt his hands on her skin, she'd been surprised. She'd expected to feel the soft hands of a boy. But summer jobs and sports had made his hands rough. Now, as they brushed against her breasts, dipped to her sides, this heightened the sensation of every touch.

His hands stilled the movement of her hips. "I'm too close to losing it," he said, softly. He wanted to say that he wanted so much to be inside her that he ached, but for once he chose the non-verbal route. One of his hands steadied her while the other travelled south, between her thighs. His knuckles brushed against her panties and she gasped against his mouth. He kissed her chin, her cheek, her eyelids. His fingers drew slow circles on the cotton of her panties, and he could feel her, melting. He pushed the fabric aside and kept caressing her, building a slow, impossible rhythm. She moaned.

He wanted to shush her, wanted to hear her scream, wanted to forget restraint, wanted to be miles away, wanted to kiss her, wanted to close his eyes. But most of all he wanted to watch her come undone.

His fingers, covered in her, lost in her, he was still amazed at being granted permission. Her climax was building slow, tortuous, and he watched. He watched as she couldn't keep her hips still, messing up her rhythm in desperation. He watched as her skin flushed red, and her eyelids fluttered closed. He watched as she bit down moans.

She kissed him, her arms around his neck, trying to hold on.

He felt her come before she actually did. He felt the muscles of her underbelly tense in his hands, and he caught one low moan in his mouth. She bit down on his lower lip as she came, and that pain alone almost did him in. He took deep breaths as he felt the waves of her climax subside, and kept kissing every available inch of her skin as her tremors subsided.

"Mmmm..." she hummed, her throat parched from swallowed moans.

His fingers lazily traced the waistband of her panties as she lay down beside him.

"Piz," she whispered after a few seconds, her voice still heavy. "How is this fair?"

He felt her hands start to wander up and down his body and he jumped to attention. He wiped his hands on his boxers and caught her wrists. "I know what I want..." he said, his voice low. "I want to be inside you."

Her eyes half-lidded, she turned a dark shade of pink at hearing him speak so candidly. "I'm going to have to pretend that you didn't say that so I can sleep tonight."

He smiled. "I'm gonna have to pretend the last twenty minutes haven't happened."

"I think tomorrow better be a productive day of detective work," Veronica said, placing a pillow between her body and Piz's.

Piz raised an eyebrow at the makeshift wall she was putting between them. "Why's that?"

"Because if we don't solve this by tomorrow night, you're sleeping on the couch."

**TBC...**

I know, I know... Fluff.

I promise, next chapter, more character/plot development.

I wanted to thank everyone for the reviews, and specially SheriffsGrl for correcting my mistake about Veronica's intership. I meant Quantico, not Langley. I'll correct and repost the previous chapter. Thanks!

di


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: **Want to thank everyone who read, and a special shout out to my lone reviewer. But seriously? One review? I'm feeling a little depressed. Come on, people, show me some love or some flames. Anyhow, here goes...

**CHAPTER 6 – Great radio**

This time his nightmare woke her up but it didn't wake him.

She watched as his breathing grew restless, his hands clenching into fists.

Veronica had seen a lot of meltdowns in her life, and they usually happened when people were fully-conscious, during the daytime. She wondered if these nightmares were what kept Piz at peace during the day. Maybe every tortured thought, every agression, he got out at night. Maybe in dreams he punched back.

They'd had so many interrupted conversations, even a few postponed fights. Maybe they were having it out, while he slept. She shuddered at the thought.

She wanted to touch him, soothe him, but knew she'd only manage to wake him. She couldn't take what he carried on her shoulders, not until he let her.

She asked herself why she trusted him so easily. She knew hardly a thing about him other than his passion for music and his brief revelations about family and home. Maybe that was why she trusted him. It had been ages since she'd gotten to know someone slowly, without checking up on backgrounds and fingerprints. Maybe this was her first natural relationship. He didn't know she'd been raped once, or how and why her mother had left, she didn't know much about his family. He was letting her in bit by bit, just as she was letting him in. Ok, maybe he was going a little faster, even if less linear. Still...

It was thrilling and scary. A different thrilling, a different scary.

He finally settled into a calmer state of sleep and, smiling, Veronica removed the pillows between them and cozied up to him, slowly finding her sleep.

- - - - - - - - -

"It's finals week, and we're only a few days away from saying goodbye to the class of 2007," Piz said into the microphone. "We're here with Brett Daniels, this year's valedictorian, Chip Diller, exiting Pi Sig president, and Fern Delgado, from Lilith House. This has been a landmark year for campus politics, and we've had our share of crime here in Hearst. Our topic today is, Changes Hearst Needs. Fern, Brett and Chip have rounded up the main points and we're now taking your questions." Piz pushed the button next to one of the blinking lights. "Randomly chosen caller, you're on the air."

"Hi, I'm Mandy, I was just accepted to Hearst and I was wondering how safe it is to go there now. I mean, I read the rapist was caught but I also read the area around Neptune sucks," the caller asked.

Fern took the mike, eyeing Chip violently. "You can never be too careful, Mandy. All the rules still apply. You keep a buddy system when walking at night, you stay sober and alert in situations where you don't know a lot of people, and you..."

Chip yawned loudly into the microphone. "Don't have fun," he added. "College is about having fun."

"It's about learning," Brett countered.

"Whatever," Chip said. "The point is, yeah, this town's a little dangerous but so is every other town in America. And some awful..." he was about to say "shit" but Piz gave him a warning look. "...stuff happened on campus, but hell, awfull stuff happens in campuses everywhere."

"But it shouldn't," Fern attempted.

"But it does," Chip continued. "So, yeah, if you want to stay inside for four years, worrying about what might happen, go ahead. But I distinctly remember Fern here being fun when she was a freshman."

Chip raised an eyebrow at Fern, who seemed to blush.

Piz shook his head. "We have time for one more call," he said. He looked up and saw Wallace entering the control room. Piz waved him hello. "This is the last call of the year, as we go off the air for summer break. Make it good." Oddly enough, only one call was blinking. Piz pushed the button with a fluorish. "Caller, you are on the air."

What followed was heavy breathing.

"You have reached KRFF, Hearst University Radio. Is anyone there?" Piz improvised, glancing at the control booth. Trish, who was manning the controls, shrugged.

Piz was about to hang up and take another call when an electronically-altered voice finally spoke. "You're gonna die, Piznarski," it said.

Then it hung up.

Piz and Wallace exchanged glances.

"That's harsh man," Chip volunteered. "You're not that bad."

Piz smiled forcedly. "Well, there you have it, folks. Six months on the air, lots of controversy and one death threat. Great radio. I want to thank our guests today and thank you all for listening, hopefully I'll still be around next year. Announcements regarding Graduation are up next. Piznarski out," he finished, taking his headphones off. "If you guys will excuse me," he said, walking over his guests to the control booth.

Trish didn't look at all worried, but then again, she didn't know the context. "You're right, that was great radio," she said, shaking his hand. "We should meet after finals and discuss the direction of the show for next year, maybe get a jump on the topics for the first two shows. How does that sound?" she asked, making her way to the cabin for the graduation announcements. Piz nodded absently.

Wallace just sat there in awe. "You heard the same thing I did, right?" Piz asked.

"Yeah, I heard it. Wish I hadn't, but I heard it." Wallace looked at the blinking lights and controls. "Do calls get screened here?"

Piz shook his head. "No. This just tells you if the call is coming from inside the radio control room or from outside. The call could've come from anywhere in Neptune. It was a legitimate call..."

"But? I can see a but in there..."

"I had fifteen flashing lights when I picked the call before that. Random selection, right?" Wallace nodded. "Well, this was the only call flashing. Which means..."

"Someone tampered with the calls?

"Only way to do that is from inside campus," Piz said. "At least, I think you can only do it from inside campus."

"Know anyone who can do it?" Wallace asked.

"Mac?" Piz volunteered.

"Anyone other than Mac? Maybe someone here at the radio? Someone who'd like you out of the picture next year?" Wallace tried.

Piz played with his hair for a second. "There's the guy who programmed the console, but he doesn't want to kill me. Well, I don't think he does."

"You seem to me like the kind of guy who never thinks someone is out to kill him."

"I am that kind of guy, bro. I like being that kind of guy."

"Show the way to your number one enemy," Wallace said, pushing Piz out of the control room.

"What about Greek Row?" Piz asked.

"We'll let them sleep a little longer."

"Chip did look tired."

- - - - - - - - - - -

Piz knocked on the closed door behind the shelves of albums and records. "Hey, Drake, what's up?" he asked, opening the door.

Surprised, Drake, his glasses askew, hit his head on the keyboard.

He'd been asleep. "Well, that answers that question."

"You radio people never knock," Drake complained, readjusting his glasses. "Who are you?"

"Wallace, a friend, he's thinking about joining the effort next year," Piz said. He knew anyone who knew him could tell he was lying through his teeth. "I just wanted to show him the big, bad, programming room."

"It's a broom closet," Drake said, humorless. "But here is where all the action goes down."

"Say, how do calls get routed in? You know, from listeners?" Wallace asked, appearing curious.

"We have a regular phone system, a few extension numbers, people from inside campus just dial the extensions, and each line has a waiting system of three."

"So if you wanted to skip to a specific line, say, I wanted a prank call to come in, as a punchline to a joke, could I know which one it is?" Wallace added.

Drake looked unamused. "Oh, another comedy show. How original." He pointed to an icon on his computer. "You just close all phone lines to incoming calls and route the call through the computer, directly to the phone input on the control console. It's easy to do, we have the software."

"So you can do it, with just the computer?" Piz asked.

"Well, no. Someone would have to manually disconnect the incoming calls. Two ways to do that. The way we do it is using a switch in the control room."

"What's the other way?"

"Cutting off the incoming calls through the main switchboard on campus."

"Thanks man," Piz said. "This was really interesting," he added, patting Drake in the back.

"Bite me," Drake muttered, resting his head back on his desk.

"See?" Piz said as they walked by the stacks of records. "He doesn't hate me."

"Keep telling yourself that."

- - - - - - - -

"Greek or Switchboard?" Wallace asked.

"Greek," Piz said. "We need Veronica-skills to break into the main switchboard."

Wallace's cellphone rang. "Speak of the devil. Hey, V." Wallace rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I got'im right here." He handed the phone over to Piz.

"Hey, hi," Piz answered, a bit too breathy. He slapped himself over the head. Wallace chuckled softly. "So you heard? Oh, Mac told you. Yeah, we figured out how they did it, but we need you to look into it." Silence. "Why do you want me to turn around?" he asked, confused. He and Wallace turned around to find Veronica and Weevil looking at them. "Hey," Piz said, approaching them. Veronica gave him a quick peck on the lips. "So I got a death threat today, how was your day?"

"Oh, I found my car cubed at the local junkyard. Leo's dusting it... what's left of it... for prints." Veronica waved it away. "Eli's letting me use his cousin's car for a while, but sadly will not let me drive his hog. You two have met, right?"

"Briefly," Eli shrugged. "Weevil."

"Yeah, I remember you, under the desk at the station," Piz said, offering his hand. "Piz."

"Piz?" Weevil looked at Veronica. "Seriously?"

"Like Weevil is any better," Veronica countered. "Be a good boy, shake hands."

Weevil rolled his eyes and shook Piz's hand. "So Veronica Mars finally went and stuck by a good guy? And here I thought you were finally ready to give me a chance."

"And anger half the female population of Neptune?" Veronica countered, bumping Eli's shoulder. "I wouldn't dare."

"Can you all stop acting like a bad romantic comedy and concentrate on the matter at hand?" Wallace asked.

"Death threat, right," Veronica said. "So you say you figured out something?"

"The only incoming call was the threat. Five minutes before that, when I picked another call, all the lines were busy. So we found out that, for only one call to come through, the phone lines have to be manually disengaged and the call routed from a computer. The computer part could be done anywhere... But the phone lines..." Piz explained.

"Only from campus," Veronica finished. "Gotcha."

"It didn't happen at the station, Wallace was in the control room. So it had to happen at the main switchboard," Piz added.

Veronica looked up at Eli, tilting her head to the side. "No need to use the head tilt, I can get you in."

"Ah, but I don't want into the switchboard, I want into the video surveillance unit."

"You're gonna have to tilt farther than that," Eli said, the natural flirt in his voice going up a notch. Piz placed a hand on Veronica's hip, more than a bit possessively, his fingers slipping under her t-shirt. Weevil laughed. "Alright, alright, I gotcha."

"So you guys are going Greek?" Veronica asked, a slight smile on her lips. Piz? Jealous? Lovely.

"Oh, yeah. Togas, the whole shebang," Wallace answered.

"Good. We'll meet up tonight," she said. She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed Piz, who kept his hands on her hips. "Try not to get killed today?"

"I'll do my best."

- - - - - - - - -

Piz and Wallace stood in front of the Pi Sig house.

In broad daylight, with no parties and no drunk girls, it was both intimidating as an architectural landmark, and disappointing as a place to be.

"So, how exactly are we going to do this? What's our cover story?" Piz asked.

"I hadn't thought that far ahead."

"Neither did I." Piz sighed. "See, this is why Veronica is teen sleuth and you and I are just... teens."

"We could just knock, right?" Wallace suggested.

"I don't think that will go over well." Piz grimaced.

"What?" Wallace asked.

"No, just... middle-school flashbacks of wedgies and stolen clothes."

"I was taped up to the flagpole, but to be fair, it wasn't the jocks. It was Weevil."

"He grows on you, I gather."

"Meh." Wallace shook his head. "Veronica grows on you. Weevil sorta happens by."

They stared at the house a little longer. "We should've had a game plan," Piz muttered.

"A game plan for what?" Dick asked, his surfer dude voice reaching them just seconds before he wraped his arms around each of their necks.

Wallace and Piz exchanged complicit glances. "Just the man we wanted to see," Wallace said.

Dick smiled. "What can I do for my favorite two losers?"

- - - - - - - - - -

Veronica followed Weevil as he made his way through the maze of cables with the utmost care.

"Why do they keep the video feed where the phone lines are?" Veronica asked, annoyed.

"Don't ask me, I just mop the floors," Weevil said, pointing to the tiny screens embedded into a solid wall of plugs and cables. "That should be it."

"Digital. Damn," Veronica said, giving it a once-through. "I might have to call Mac if I can't figure it out."

Weevil frowned. "It shouldn't be too complicated if these chumps can operate it." He tilted his head to one side and smiled. "Do remember to erase us before we leave."

"Will do," she said, setting herself to work.

He chuckled to himself.

"What?" Veronica asked, looking at his amusement.

"You do realize you're dating a nerd, right?" Eli asked.

"I think he's more of a geek, but that's just semantics," Veronica answered. "Lay off him, will you?"

"You really like the guy," Weevil pointed out.

"I do. He's a good guy."

"You're not the greatest judge of character."

"Sure I am. I hang out with you," Veronica said, clicking a small wheel and turning it left. "Ok, we're rocking."

"I meant Echolls."

"I know what you meant, and you and I both know exactly what a great judge of character I am. I'm just... bad at dating. By the way, why are we talking about this?"

"Because you're dating a nerd, so I decided to go into High School Cheerleader mode."

"Then go fraking cheer from the sidelines while a check this out," Veronica said, playing the video.

She was back five minutes before noon, the time of the call. She played it forward.

There it was, clear as day. A tall man, his back to the camera, wearing a shirt with the pitbull logo.

She took out her memory card and got cracking.

- - - - - - - - -

"Newbies," Dick said to the house brothers he encountered as he dragged Piz and Wallace, each wearing a pair of boxers over their face. "They want to pledge next year," Dick added for the benefit of those leaving the bathroom. Wallace got snapped on the ass with a wet towel.

"This has got to be the worst plan ever," Piz muttered.

"At least he let us go back to the dorm to get our own clean underwear," Wallace replied.

"Thank Darwin for small favors."

Dick guided them, basically blindfolded, through a door. They heard it close and sensed the room was dark.

"Alright, we're clear," Dick said. "And just so we're really really clear, I'm doing this 'cause I want to know who cut Logan up. I could care less about you two."

"Duly noted," Piz replied, taking the boxers off his head. "So where are we?"

"The Den." Dick flipped on the light switch.

Faced with a giant wall of trophies and framed newspaper articles. Wallace couldn't find a better word than, "Damn."

"This is where all the hazing happens, so I wouldn't touch those," Dick said, pointing at the trophies.

"I'm not even gonna ask," Piz said.

"So what exactly did you want to know?" Dick asked. "I mean, you were coming to ask questions or did you just wanna look around?"

"We're not completely sure why we're here," Wallace admitted. "Probably just Veronica's way of keeping us busy. We didn't really have a plan to get past the front door, let alone one for when we got inside."

Dick smirked. "Look, I don't actually live in the frat house, so there might be stuff going on that I don't know about, ok? But I don't think any of these guys has it in them to kill a dog."

"How do you know that?" Piz asked.

Dick laughed. "House TV rule is you don't watch Animal Planet and you don't watch any medical shows. The guys aren't good with blood."

"That's your excuse?" Wallace asked.

Dick shrugged.

"Fine," Piz said, rolling his eyes. "Do you know anything about The Castle?"

"The Castle?" Dick asked. "Isn't that a movie?"

"Secret society," Wallace explained. "Based in Hearst."

"Ah." Dick shrugged. "Maybe my dad knows."

"Your dad going away to prison for embezzlement?" Wallace asked.

"My dad, pole-vaulting champion, class of 1974," Dick countered. "He's back in town, so..."

"So..."

Dick shrugged. "I could ask."

Piz thought about this for a moment. "You know what? Better not," he said. "Can you hang on to this information for a couple of days or until we call you?"

"You mean keep quiet?" Dick asked.

"Yup."

Dick shrugged once more. "It's not like I have anyone to tell."

"All the same."

"Sure. Mars has my phone number." Dick said. "Just don't tell her I was nice to you or anything. And put those boxers back on your heads."

- - - - - - - - -

"Why didn't you want Dick asking his father?" Wallace asked.

Piz tried to organize his thoughts. "Mac has the files on all the Castle pledges, right? If the Castle is after Veronica and this Casablancas man in part of it, wouldn't he be obligated to tell them we're poking around? I think it's better if Mac looks him up first."

"You have a point there," Wallace granted. "But we're basically going to tonight's meeting with no new information."

"We're taking a death threat to the meeting," Piz said, pointing at himself playfully. He rummaged in his pockets for his car keys. "And apparently, we're walking it there. I can't find my keys."

"You must've left them at the station."

"Yeah, I'll go look for them. Meet you by my car?"

"Nah, I'll go with. Strength in numbers, right?" Wallace offered.

Piz laughed. "What, someone's gonna jump me at the station? Oh, wait, that has already happened before."

"Come on, man. Your lady awaits."

"I'm always a little scared she awaits with a taser."

"She does, so you just better not give her an excuse to use it."

"Yeah, yeah."

- - - - - - - - - -

"This place is deserted," Wallace said, motioning to the empty cafeteria. The last of the food booths was already locking up.

"Yeah, people feel guilty if they eat and study. Given the right variables, people will feel guilty about almost anything," Piz replied, pushing open the door to the radio station. "This I learned through my catholic upbringing."

"Yeah, pretty much all you learned." Wallace said, following him in. "Hey, why is the station closed so early?"

Piz shrugged. "People are busy with finals, the DJ on shift just leaves a playlist and comes back a couple of times to check if everything's kosher." Piz looked over the control panel and the mixing table. "We're just saving him a trip."

"What color's your keychain?" Wallace asked.

"It's pink with purple hearts," Piz said, straighfaced. Wallace raised an eyebrow. "My little sister gave it to me as a going away present. It's her favorite."

"If I hadn't seen Veronica's face this morning, I would have to assume you're gay."

"Go ahead," Piz muttered. "Story of my life."

Wallace chuckled, looking under the table. "Not here."

"Can you look in the booth? I'll go look in my locker out back."

Wallace nodded, pushing the door of the booth open.

And then the room went dark.

TBC...

Thanks for reading. If you have the time, please let me know what you think. Also, if you're feeling up to it, my other Veronica Mars fic, Macaroni, is up on this archive. You can find it through my author page. Thanks again for stopping by!

di


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: **First of all, I just want to say thank you for all the kind reviews. I've almost finished writing this story's climax and I've started on another story as well, so hopefully it will all work out. This chapter has action, fluff and character development... how did I manage, you ask? I have no idea. But soon, we will have smut added into the mix. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!

**CHAPTER 7 – Dark to light**

Piz stood still for a second, blinking in the pitch black surroundings.

"Uh, Wallace?" Piz called from the dark corridor. Moving was probably not a good idea right now. There was the imminent risk of tripping against a stack of records. But the soundproofed walls provided little chance of Wallace hearing him. Groping at walls and hoping his eyes would sooner or later get used to the dark, Piz made his way back to the control room.

Wallace had turned on his cellphone for light, and soon enough Piz could make his shape out inside the broadcast booth. "Did you pull a cable or something?" Piz asked through the glass. Wallace couldn't hear him, of course, so Piz went to open the door.

It was locked.

Piz shook his head in disbelief. He tried the lock again. Nothing. He knocked on the glass, calling Wallace's attention. "THE DOOR IS LOCKED," he mouthed, pointing to the door and making a locking motion with his hand. Wallace rolled his eyes and tried it from his side. Nothing.

Wallace pulled out his set of keys and looked up questioning, hoping Piz would have keys to the booth.

Piz shook his head. He didn't.

Wallace attempted to tell Piz something, but Piz couldn't make it out, so he just started dialing a number on his cel. "That's not gonna work," Piz muttered, sighing. "No cellphone reception in the booth."

Wallace knocked on the glass again, giving Piz a What-the-Fuck face. Piz shrugged and gave him an I-know face. "I'M GONNA TRY THE PHONE" Piz said, pointing to the phone jacked up in the wall and knowing full well Wallace couldn't hear him.

He picked up the receiver and, much to his chagrin, found the line to be dead.

He shook his head at Wallace, who looked annoyed. Wallace mouthed something along the lines of "go find Veronica" and made a shooing gesture. Piz nodded and left the station.

Out in the cafeteria some of the light from the rest of the campus filtered in. He walked up to the nearest emergency phone and dialed quickly, keeping his eye on the booth. It took Veronica two rings to pick up. "Hey, this is going to sound stupid, but do you think you and Weevil could swing by the radio station and help us out?" Piz asked. He knew Veronica had some witty retort lined up so he cut her to the chase. "We were looking for my keys and suddenly the lights blacked out and Wallace got locked in. Bring a lockpick, ok?" Suddenly, the light from Wallace's cellphone went out. "Uh, hurry up. I think something just..."

Piz let the phone drop as he saw a figure run out of the station heading towards the cafeteria door. It was little more than a shadow, but Piz ran after him. "Hey!" he called. "Stop!"

His sneakers slipped on the floor as he stepped on a wet spot, but he kept running.

When he got to the door, the shadow was nowhere to be found.

Looking down, in the dim light that streamed in from outside, Piz noticed the front of his shoes was stained red.

"Oh, no, no, no..." he murmured, running back towards the station. Whoever had run out had left the door still locked.

Inside, he tried to look through the glass but it was pitch black.

"Here goes nothing," he whispered, taking impulse and crashing into the reinforced door to the broadcast booth. It barely budged. He pounded on the glass to no avail.

"Fuck," he muttered. Taking the nearest chair, he held it above his head and was about to swing it when Wallace placed a hand against the glass.

With the light from the cellphone back on, Piz could see Wallace place both his hands on the glass, stopping him from breaking it.

Wallace staggered over to the broadcast desk and leaned there. "I'm ok," he mouthed. He had a deep gash on one of his hands and his lip was busted. "I'm ok," he repeated. Piz smiled, relieved.

"VERONICA'S ON HER WAY," he said, aware that Wallace couldn't hear him through the glass. He gestured for Wallace to wrap his cut hand in a rag that was on the desk. Wallace limped over to the spot Piz pointed out.

Wallace rolled his eyes. With his good hand, he raised a keychain and showed it to Piz. Pink and purple.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Piz held Veronica's cellphone up, using the screen's light as a flashlight for Veronica to successfully picked the lock, releasing Wallace from the broadcast booth. "How's your hand doing?" she asked.

"Needs stitches," he answered. "The fucker was in the corner, waiting."

The lights blinked a couple of times before coming on completely. The station's air conditioner began to hum. "Weevil, a man after my own heart."

"This is getting ridiculous," Weevil said, placing a grid back on the fuse box. "It's one thing to piss off people, it's another for your friends to start getting cut.

"Yeah, well..." Veronica whispered, at a loss for a reply. "We need to get Wallace stitched up."

"Is this something you want the police involved in?" Weevil asked.

Piz, Veronica and Wallace looked at each other.

"I'll take that as a no. Come on, homeboy, I know a lady," Weevil said.

"A lady?" Wallace asked, his hand held high above his head to stop the bleeding, the rag around his cut soaked in blood.

"Relax, she's a registered nurse, she just happens to live in the barrio. She's good, doesn't leave scars."

Veronica stopped Eli for a second. "We should go with you..."

Weevil shook his head. "You two stay here until your father gets here with the cavalry, figure out where the blood on... Piz's shoe came from."

"I cut the guy," Wallace said, matter-of-factly. "He got my hand, I landed a punch, he lost control of the knife and I managed to turn it on him. Got him on the arm," Wallace pointed to Piz's forearm. "Right about there."

"I'd high-five you if you weren't bleeding," Piz admitted.

"I know you love me. You almost got yourself expelled for me," Wallace said, walking away with Weevil.

"What does he mean by that?" Veronica asked, kneeling down to look at Piz's shoe.

"I was about to smash the window with the chair, to see if I could get to him. I tried breaking the door down but it didn't work," Piz explained.

"Once this is over, I'm giving you an advanced seminar on lock-picking and surveillance," Veroica sighed. "Show me where you skidded."

Piz led the way. With the artificial lights on, it was easier to see. "The guy ran to that door there. I was over there, by the phone booth." Piz pointed to a spot on the floor. "There."

Veronica knelt down and took a whiff at it. "It's blood alright. He was sleeveless, right?"

Piz shrugged. "Couldn't tell."

"Either that or Wallace really did a number on him," Veronica explained. "No one bleeds through a sweatshirt that profusely, that fast."

"No sleeves it is," Piz said. Suddenly, Piz felt the urge to sit down.

He took a few steps back from the blood and sat on the floor.

"Piz, are you ok?" Veronica asked, kneeling beside him.

Piz said softly. "Wallace wasn't supposed to be there. My keys, my job."

"Yeah," Veronica whispered, sitting beside him.

"I'm freaking out a little. Just gimme a couple of minutes."

Veronica rested her chin on his shoulder. "Take all the time you need."

Piz took a few deep breaths. "Maybe ten minutes then." He looked at her sideways. "Don't just stare at me, say something to take my mind off that..."

"I was raped when I was sixteen," she blurted out. Ice-cold truth, near a streak of blood on the floor.

"What?" he asked, turning to face her. It didn't exactly register. Was she making a politically-incorrect joke?

She sat back, waiting for a reaction. When nothing came, she started again. "Roofied and raped. I've also been shot at a couple of times."

"Roofied and raped," Piz whispered. Blood drying two feet away and it seemed so unimportant now. "Do you know who...?"

"He's dead," Veronica said, dismissively. "Worst distraction ever," she muttered to herself.

"I'm not thinking about Wallace almost getting killed anymore, if that's what you mean."

Silence.

He reached for her hand and twined his fingers with hers. "I'm a couple of years too late for a reaction here, so you're gonna have to tell me how... I mean..."

She placed her chin back on Piz's shoulder. With closed eyes, she breathed him in, replacing the stench of blood. Her nostrils, instead, inhaled Piz, the scent of his skin, soap and a thin sheen of sweat. "I just wanted you to know. The timing was off." She sighed. "It's...always... off."

Piz still found it hard to find words, to explain. He wanted to say he understood, but he didn't understand. He wanted to say he'd be there for her when she decided to tell him anything, but he couldn't promise that either. If anything, this week he'd learned that nothing was certain. "Sometime, soon, we're gonna have to sit down and start filling the gaps," Piz said, kissing her forehead.

She nodded. "There's a lot of gaps. Skeletons in closets, ghosts in the cupboards."

"I want to know you," he said. Because he could promise nothing, he followed her lead. "We all have our ghosts."

Veronica attempted a smile. "You show me your ghosts and I'll show you mine," she replied. "Deal?"

"Deal."

"At least we learned something new today," he pointed out.

"What's that?" Veronica asked.

- - - - - - - -

"There's more than one guy involved," Veronica said.

Piz smiled, proud of himself for picking up on that. The kitchen of the Mars' apartment, their makeshift headquarters, was buzzing. Information coming and going. Even Weevil was there, everyone except Keith Mars, who was still out on campus with Leo.

"How do you figure, V?" Weevil asked.

"Piz's keys. Someone messed with the call-ins at the radio. At the same time, someone messed with Piz's keys. You ambush someone when you know their routines or their needs. For them to know that Piz would go back for his keys meant that someone got into Piz's things and took the keys."

"You didn't just lose them?" Wallace asked.

Piz took out his keys and showed everyone his embarrassingly pink keychain.

"That only proves one thing," Weevil started, but Wallace elbowed him.

"I get it," Wallace said.

"I don't," Mac replied, looking up from her laptop.

"If someone just saw these keys on the broadcast desk, they wouldn't immediately assume they were Piz's. So they wouldn't ambush him just based on these car keys lying around there. But if someone took them out of his locker..." Veronica explained.

"I leave them in the locker sometimes so they won't make noise during the broadcast... I move my feet a lot, they jingle, Trish wants to kill me," Piz explained. "I generally get them right after, but with the shock of the call... I just forgot."

"Maybe that was the point of the call," Wallace pointed out. "So that means someone had to be cutting the phone line and, at the same time, stealing your keys."

"Exactly. More than one person."

"I'm ready for you, Veronica," Mac said, pointing to her screen.

Wallace shook his head. "Everyone's all business. Where's the naked lap-dance I was promised for my bravery?" he asked.

Veronica tsk-tsked him. "Fennel, I'm pretty sure the lady that stitched you up only promised you a lollipop."

"I told you, homeboy," Weevil said, plopping down on the couch in the living room and clicking on the TV. "Being a hero doesn't pay."

"I'm gonna join Weevil," Wallace told Veronica and the rest of the gang. "My hand is killing me."

"You know you're my hero, right?" Piz offered.

"Being the hero of a guy who owns a pink-and-purple hearts keychain does not get me chicks," Wallace said. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

"Chicks dig scars," Weevil opined.

"We sure do," Mac muttered, drumming her fingers on the top of her screen. "Matter at hand, anyone?"

Veronica approached. Piz followed close behind. After what had happened to Wallace today and... well... after the entire past week, he felt the need to... be prepared.

"Ok, so this is the footage you gave me, raw," Mac said. "I don't get why they didn't wipe the surveillance tape clean."

"The hard drive is in a pretty odd place," Veronica explained.

"I don't care if it's in Neverland, you wipe, right?" Mac said. "Specially if you know where the cameras are, and this man knew where the cameras were."

"Never turns?" Veronica asked.

"Not once," Mac replied.

"Tell me there's good news," Veronica whispered.

Mac smiled widely. "There's good news." She clicked over the image as the person walked in and extended his hand. Enlarging the image and running an enhancement, she showed Veronica a very blurry picture of a hand.

"I don't get it," Piz said, squinting and tilting his head.

"The thing on his hand is a class ring," Mac said. "And, from the shade of the stone, I can tell you which year."

"The feed is black and white," Veronica pointed out.

"Color saturation and light absorption can be obtained from black and white images. I can narrow it down to a couple of different stones, which can narrow us down to a specific year, cross reference to the list of Castle members, and voilá!" Mac smiled at Veronica's and Piz's shared expression of awe. "I'm running a program to figure out the possible stones now. It should take all night, but the cross-check should be really quick, maybe an hour tomorrow morning. By noon we'll have a couple of people to lean on."

"I like it when you talk shop," Weevil called out. Mac tried not to blush, to no avail. Veronica raised an eyebrow, but Mac waved away the attention.

"So, what did your dad say?" Mac asked, changing the subject.

"No witnesses to the Gorya murder. He took a sample of the blood on the cafeteria, but what with the Lab being backed up..." Veronica trailed off.

"Yeah," Mac agreed. "So I'll take the couch?" she asked.

"You're taking my bed," Veronica offered.

"I don't need to..." Mac started, but Veronica interrupted her.

"I don't care." Veronica smiled. "You're taking my bed."

"Fine," Mac said, rolling her eyes. "I'm gonna go take a nap, then." She jumped off the kitchen stool and waved at Wallace and Weevil. "Night, boys."

"Men, _mi China_, we're men," Weevil said, eyebrow raised. "Fennel here just got his first ounce of street-cred, you can't be taking it away by calling him a boy."

Wallace, who'd been nodding off a second ago, pointed at Weevil, then gave a thumbs up with his good hand.

"Good night, men, then," she said, walking into Veronica's room and plopping down on the bed.

"_Mi China_?" Veronica asked, slapping Weevil on the shoulder. "Not five hours ago you were flirting with me. A girl could get hurt."

Weevil shrugged and stood up to leave. "You're not a regular girl. And you have Piznarski here to keep you company," he countered.

"Can you take Wallace with you?" Piz asked. "He's... well... asleep."

"Yeah. Leticia gave him a couple of painkillers," Weevil explained. "Won't his mother freak out when I drop her kid off, all stitched up, drugged out and with no medical bills?"

"Yeah, that's not such a good idea," Veronica said. "We'll just let him crash on the couch there. Thanks for everything, Eli," she added.

"Don't mention it," Weevil said.

Piz offered his hand and Eli shook it. No hesitation, no contempt. But the handshake and the look in Weevil's eyes warned him of the world of trouble he'd be in, were he ever to wrong Veronica. Piz nodded in understanding. As silent conversations went, this was one of the clearest he'd had.

"I'll call you tomorrow, see if you need any help," Eli said, showing himself out of the apartment.

"I'm gonna get Wallace a blanket," Veronica said.

Piz nodded, taking off Wallace's shoes and dropping them on the floor. "So that whole me-sleeping-on-the-couch scenario?"

"I have a couple of sleeping bags we can use," Veronica said, covering Wallace.

- - - - - - - - -

Staring at the living room ceiling, Piz linked his hand with Veronica's. "There's plenty of room on your bedroom floor," Piz suggested.

"And miss out on all the quality time I spend with Wallace's sleeping form? No way."

"I'm not tired," Piz whispered. "No, that's not true. It's just... I can't sleep."

"Me neither. I have a truckload of questions for dad and I'm just... overexcited."

Piz turned to face her. "A ghost for a ghost," he said, softly.

"Which ghost do you want?" Veronica asked, her eyes still on the ceiling.

"Whichever one," he said.

"Should I..." she started, hesitant.

"Do you want me to go first?" Piz asked.

Veronica nodded.

"It's ok," he said. "So, I lied, before."

If this had been another time, another place... if he'd been Logan, an admission like that would have set her off, opened the floodgates of agression. But she chose to hear Piz out.

"I was actually 14 when Pete left home and he was still six months away from high school graduation. I just tell everyone who asks that I was twelve because it's easier for people to think I was too young or not as close to him. Then they don't ask what it's like. But when he left, I had to go to school for six more months without him. People never messed with me before than, 'cause I was Pete's little brother. But when he disappeared, I started getting picked on, and bullied. Started wearing headphones and eating lunch behind the library, listening to music."

At some point during the story, Veronica had stopped staring at the ceiling and had started watching Piz. He didn't seem to see her, although he was looking in her direction. His eyes were fixed on a different place and time, and though their hands were linked, he moved his fingers in recollection, tapping them against the floor, drumming on her forearm.

"Pete was wild, you know, he'd party and not come home for a whole weekend, but he always walked with me to school, and then he'd drive us when he got his permit. And then, one Monday, he just... he hadn't gotten home on Sunday night and he didn't... I walked to school alone. My dad called the cops, told them Pete was missing, but Pete had been in trouble before, a DUI and some party they'd busted, so they just told us to wait. They labeled him a runaway and the day he turned eighteen they dropped the case." Piz's quick smile came and faded over and over. "My mom started crying that monday and she didn't stop crying for an entire week. My dad and I did the laundry and the dishes and ate frozen pizza half-thawed."

Veronica understood this. The terrible loss of someone who leaves, the debris they leave behind.

"Then, one day, I woke up to go to school and I found everything was back to normal. Pancakes on the breakfast table, Mom smiling, coffee brewing, Dad reading the paper. For half a second I thought Pete had come back. But he hadn't. Dad drove me to school that day, and I got my lunch money stolen. Took up sports right about then, too."

Veronica's eyes softened as he told this story. She could imagine him, lanky and bespectacled and alone.

"It wasn't that they stopped looking for Pete. We put posters up, called all his friends. But he'd taken a bag of clothes and all his savings, so yes, maybe he was a runaway... We kept looking, until we had nowhere else to look. But my parents couldn't stay in that hole... My Mom pretended to feel better, for me. So I would have the strength to go to school, to keep going. It wasn't until Iza was born later that year that she really smiled again. And even then..."

"Has your sister ever asked about him?" Veronica asked.

Piz broke out of his storytelling trance, his eyes meeting Veronica's for the first time.

"She did once. My mom just said he was away on a very long trip."

"Bad cover story," Veronica whispered.

"Yeah," Piz said. "You know what kills me? Right now, I hate Pete. For making Mom cry, for never meeting Iza, for making me dry-heave every morning before school for an entire year. If I saw him again, I'd probably lose it. He left and he erased every good thing he ever did."

"But you still miss him."

"Yeah, I still miss him. I want to kick his ass, but I miss him."

They faced each other in silence for a few minutes. Veronica stroked his cheek, tracing his features in the dark. "If you ever want me to... try to find him... I could..."

"I know." Wallace's quiet breathing made Piz smile. "He'd take a bullet for you," he said, pointing to Wallace's sleeping form.

"He'd take a bullet for all of us," Veronica countered, smiling back. "It's my turn for ghosts, right?"

"Right."

"Any old ghost, right?" she asked, gritting her teeth.

"Skeletons will do."

And so she spoke.

She closed her eyes and told him about the rape, and about Beaver, and Duncan. About Lily's death. About her complicated history with Logan, about Jake Kane, and her mother leaving, and how everything tied together in a complicated bow that no Martha Stewart could ever make sense of.

She spoke softly, her eyes trained on his hands, his hands that held hers. She'd never told the story linearly, never told anyone every part of it that she could remember. Her words left her calmly, slowly.

He tried to let it all sink in and, for the first time, understood what it meant to have met Veronica Mars. He understood her reluctance to let go of Logan, her tentative approach to their relationship. He understood why Wallace would get in the line of fire for her. He understood why he couldn't stay away.

"So I'll understand if you want to run out of here and take my dad's sleeping bag with you. I'm damaged goods, bad for business, an uninsurable risk, my life's a mess, my dog is dead, and both my ex-boyfriend and my best friend have been stabbed in the last week. Hell, I'll open the door for you."

"That's one hell of a ghost," Piz said, as it was the first thing to come to his mind, it was also the first to come out of his mouth. "Scary, big-ass ghost from hell."

He watched her, expecting a violent reaction, expecting her to clam up and find her taser. He'd gone too far, he hadn't gone far enough...

And then she laughed.

Loud, crazy, laughter.

It started out small but became infectious, contagious. He could see the laughter reach her eyes, and understood, for the first time, why she had given him a chance after all.

Because she didn't need sob stories, didn't need pity parties.

He didn't laugh with her, couldn't. This was hers, this moment of involuntary lightness. Tears squeezed out from the corners of her eyes, but she laughed them off. And he smiled.

"Big-ass ghost," she repeated, her eyes on his.

"Mine is having low self-esteem issues now."

She twined her fingers with his and felt a slow warmth spread over her as he leaned in to kiss her lips, so softly she thought she might have imagined it. "I know this sounds silly, but one of the reasons Logan and I kept going back to each other was that these things... that we didn't need to explain them to each other. So much of this we lived through together, so we just knew... I didn't want to take the trouble of telling someone else and having them look at me like..."

"Like you needed to be pitied."

"Exactly," Veronica said. She knew Piz was thinking about his brother. Common ground. She never thought she'd have that with Piz. Even though they approached the ghosts in their lives in such different ways... it felt nice to share. "Wallace knows... as much as I've told anyone. Mac knows just enough. Eli knows bits and pieces. And now... now you know."

"What made you change your mind?" Piz asked. Veronica's eyebrows quirked, trying to gauge the full extent of his question. "I mean... you could go back to Logan. He's obviously in love with you and you... I've seen the way you look at each other. And you wouldn't have needed to tell me anything."

"I think Logan and I stepped over the point of no return. We've been toeing the line for a while... Have you ever felt, when you meet someone, that maybe if you'd met them two years prior or two years after, they'd be your best friend? I think Logan and I are off by about thirty years."

"So, I'm just around while you cross days off the calendar?" he asked. He didn't mean to sound bitter, but he did. He tried to bite back his words, but it was too late and he could see that Veronica had already shielded her eyes. "I'm sorry, that was cruel."

"And not what I meant," she said, turning to face the ceiling. "I don't know what will happen in thirty years, ok? I know about now." She glanced at him, fleetingly. "Right now, I'm with you."

He pulled her closer, his arm around her waist. "I know I can be an ass sometimes. I'm sorry. I just... I'm going to say this and you're going to think I'm insane and that's ok, I might be..." She turned to face him again and Piz swallowed, hard. Her eyes always did him in. "I don't care about death threats if I get to be close to you... You have this magnetic pull on people, Veronica. You have Wallace, Mac, Weevil, hell, even Dick's helping us out. In one way or another, we all want to be close to you because you glow. Maybe it's all that you've lived through that makes me capable of anything just by the fact that I'm standing inches away from you." He paused, reaching for words. "If it wasn't complete insanity, I'd tell you that I'm in love you, but we've only been together for two months. So I'm going to tell you that I am completely and irrevocably in like with you."

Veronica cracked a smile.

"And as a preview, kind of a trailer, I can tell you that I'm also falling in love with you. Alice-in-Wonderland-down-the-rabbit-hole falling," he finished. "Which makes me go caveman, possessive, idiotic and -"

Veronica pulled him closer by the collar of his t-shirt and kissed him full on the mouth, interrupting his string of self-deprecation. It took him a second to respond to the kiss, but respond he did, his hands wandering under her t shirt and fanning over her back. His tongue caressed hers, and her hand tucked inside his shirt, drawing lazy circles on his belly. He moaned softly into her mouth and she smiled to herself. Distracted, they didn't hear the ping from the computer, and didn't see the soft glow that came from the screen lighting back up.

Mac did, though. Even from inside Veronica's room, she was in tune with her machine, and the soft ping woke her. Hazily, she walked into the living room, muttered good morning and sat on a stool on the kitchen counter. She vaguely heard the shuffle of Piz and Veronica kissing, but ignored it in lieu of clicking on the program she'd been running. Reviewing the data, her eyes lit up. "Hey, uh, Veronica?" she asked.

Veronica and Piz stopped cold. Sitting up, hair unkempt and lips reddened, they looked at Mac who was sitting at the kitchen counter.

"How long have you been there?" Veronica asked.

"Couple of minutes. You've got to see this," Mac replied.

Veronica glanced at Piz, a silent apology in her eyes. They hadn't slept all night and it was almost morning. Piz shrugged. "I'll make coffee."

**TBC...**

_So... how do you like it? _

_di_


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8 - Play it cool.**

"So I cross referenced the stone with the graduating classes, and narrowed it down. These are the years I got," Mac said, turning the screen towards Veronica. Piz handed each girl a cup of steaming coffee. Veronica smiled in thanks, while Mac thanked him loudly. "Coffee is my god."

Veronica scrolled down the document filled with years. "So you're cross-referencing these with the Castle?" she asked.

"As we speak," Mac said, taking a sip of coffee.

Piz looked over Veronica's shoulder at the list. Spotting the list of years, Piz remembered something. "Oh, hey, I wanted to ask you something earlier, Mac. You see, we talked to Dick Casablancas..." he trailed off, remembering what Veronica had told him earlier, about Mac and Dick's brother. He shook it off, thinking maybe it was best if he didn't let on to what he knew. "He mentioned his father used to be a Pi Sig, and a pole-vaulting champ. Class of 1974. Dick offered to ask him about The Castle for us, but Wallace and I thought we'd better do a little background on Mr. Casablancas before Dick asked him anything."

"And Dick said he'd keep quiet?" Veronica asked.

Piz shrugged. "Yeah, he promised. Told me to make it clear to you that he was not doing any of this for you, he was doing it for Logan."

"That's exactly how Dick shows his love," Mac said. "So you want me to run a background check on the biggest real estate embezzler that Neptune has ever met? You know he's due to serve time starting August?"

"Yeah, he's back in town, Dick said," Piz explained. "He has a month before he goes to jail."

"Class of seventy-four, you said?" Veronica asked, scrolling back up the list. "It's one of the classes on your list."

"This would suck so very terribly," Mac said, turning the computer towards herself. "How did we miss it?" She typed a few keywords and clicked open a couple of folders. Piz watched the exchange in awe.

"We never went through the entire list. There was no need," Veronica answered.

Mac looked straight at her computer screen for a few seconds, in complete silence. "Fuck," she said, softly.

Turning the screen back towards Veronica, Mac's hands seemed to shake. "Fuck," she repeated.

"It might not be him," Veronica whispered.

Piz slowly read the contents of the document Mac opened. "He's already on his way to jail... Why risk a longer sentence. Why..."

"Because I'm the one who put him there," Veronica said. "I wasn't looking for it, but I found out about the embezzlement. I put him in jail. He's finally going, but he's not gonna go down without a fight, and... with Jake Kane's help..."

"He has the whole Castle at his disposal." Mac sighed out. "Dick might be an asshole, but he doesn't fucking deserve any of this."

"Kane might have hired Casablancas to off Gorya. Wiedman's gotten too visible lately to be pulling clean-up jobs," Veronica pointed out.

"But the letters are six months old," Piz pointed out. "Dick's father just came back, right? Wasn't he... hiding out in the Caymans or something?"

"That's what he told Dick and his lawyers... and the papers. But, who knows? This fine county is big enough to hide out... specially if you have Jake Kane around to foot the Bill," Veronica answered.

Mac shook her head. "I'm gonna finish running the program. Maybe some other name will pop up. Maybe it's not Dick's father."

Veronica shook her head. "This is no time to be optimistic," she said, grabbing her phone and dialing quickly. "I'm calling my dad, I think we ought to get a tail on Casablancas."

- - - - - - - - - -

Summer always brought out the worst in people, Keith Mars had learned early on in his career as a P.I.

It only took a twenty-dollar bill and a quick flash of his gun holster for the manager of the Camelot Motel to give him the room number and car description of Richard Casablancas Sr.

Keith surveilled the area for fifteen minutes. Once he was certain it was clear, he slid a small tracking device under the car.

Fifteen minutes before daybreak, he drove home.

- - - - - - - -

When Keith Mars opened the door to his apartment, he was surprised to find that there wasn't more activity. Piz and Veronica were sleeping on the floor, sleeping bags next to each other. Wallace was on the couch, still completely out.

Only Mac moved around the kitchen, filling up the coffemaker to brew her second pot of coffee.

"Hey, Mr. Mars," she said, waving a little. Keith walked silently over to the kitchen. "They're taking a power-nap," Mac explained, pointing to Piz and Veronica.

"Wallace?" Keith asked.

"Still out from the meds."

Keith nodded, heading for the coffeepot. "I'm gonna have some of this."

"Go right ahead," Mac said, going back to her computer. A hard knock on the door startled Mac and brought Piz and Veronica out of their sleep. "I'll get it."

Mac stepped carefully around Piz, who wasn't fully awake yet, and Veronica, who'd immediately snapped to attention at the harsh knock. "Hey, dad," she said. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Stealth, honey. It's called stealth," Keith said, taking a sip of coffee.

Veronica rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and glanced at the door. She smiled at Weevil, who gave a startled Mac a kiss on the cheek as a hello.

Mac, unaccustomed to the attention, backed away clumsily before closing the door. "Sheriff Mars. V."

"Eli, you really should stop calling me Sheriff, seeing as it might anger the new authorities," Keith said.

"You know me, always looking for a fight," Weevil replied. "I just wanted to drop by before going to campus. See if you needed anything, V."

"Yeah, I thought of something last night, but it was too late to call," Veronica said, standing up. Piz rolled over, shielding his eyes from the impending daylight. He muttered something along the lines of "five more minutes."

"What is it?" Weevil asked.

"What hospital does Leticia work in?" Veronica questioned.

"Neptune Memorial, where else?"

"Can you tell her to keep an eye out for a chart on a stab wound, upper arm?"

Weevil smiled widely. "Beat you to the punch. She said she'd pull the files if she found any, but she told me to tell you not to get your hopes up. Stab wounds usually get reported to the police. If this guy's not a complete idiot, he'll either go private or go barrio."

"It's worth a shot," Veronica shrugged.

"I'll swing by the hospital after work and bring you the files," Weevil said. "Now I gotta go get janitorial. You take care of my car," he warned. With a quick wink to Veronica, he pinched Mac's arm with his knuckles and smiled. "Chau, mi China," he added. He waved goodbye to Keith and disappeared back out the door, closing it behind him. The loud thump of the door finally woke Piz.

"Why does he keep calling me that?" Mac asked, confused.

"Term of endearment. As in, I think he likes you," Veronica explained, taking out a box of poptarts. "Breakfast, anyone?" She raised the box at Piz, who gave her a thumbs-up on his way to the bathroom. "Take that as a yes."

"Wait. But I have a boyfriend. Max, remember?" Mac interrupted.

"Ah, you see, mi China, I know that and you know that, but does Eli know that? And more importantly, does he care?" Mac dropped her head into her hands and sighed. "You like him... _Mac Attack, taking a walk on the wild side_."

Keith shook his head, smiling. "It's nice to know that, even in the midst of kniving, car-jacking and pet-murder, girls still talk about boys."

"We're getting a manicure right after breakfast, daddy," Veronica quipped.

Keith rolled his eyes and handed Mac a pen drive and a plastic card with a serial number. "I'm gonna go sleep a little before heading over to the lab. I placed the tracking device on Casablancas' car. That's the number."

Veronica nodded. "I'll run it. Want me to wake you up?"

"Nah. I'll set the alarm. Come get me if Leo calls."

- - - - - - - - -

Piz, freshly showered and hair still dripping, shook Wallace awake. "Come on, buddy. Time to get up."

"How is it that you are always the first person I see in the mornings? It should be Miranda. Or Danielle. Or Leticia," Wallace complained.

"Give it up, Wallace. You know you love you some Piz," Veronica quipped from the kitchen.

Piz tossed a cushion at Wallace and shuddered. "That is wrong on... so many levels."

"That's your girlfriend," Wallace acknowledged.

"You love me and you know it," Veronica said. "And Mac here has a crush on Weevil."

"I hate you," Mac muttered. "If it wasn't for the fact that you're my best friend, I'd have to shiv you myself," she added. About to continue the fake threat, she opened her mouth to speak but stopped when she heard movement outside. "Are you expecting someone?" Mac asked.

There was a thump, and a "Hey!", followed by two sets of boots marching up the steps. "My dad was expecting Leo."

"I think he has company," Wallace said, looking out the window.

Piz opened the front door and was faced with not one, but two of Veronica's ex-boyfriends. "Guess who I found lurking in the bushes," Leo said, pushing Logan into the room.

"Weren't you supposed to be in the hospital?" Wallace asked.

"Could ask you the same thing," Logan replied, nodding towards Wallace's bandaged hand. "I got released this morning."

"And you decided, just got stabbed, so now it's time to lurk?" Veronica asked, a little loudly.

"I just wanted to know if you were ok," Logan countered, taking a seat.

"A call would've sufficed. A knock would've worked," Veronica replied.

"I was about to know and that's when Deputy Joe here came in and almost busted my stitches."

Leo shrugged. "I may have been a little quick to judge."

Veronica rubbed her temple. "I like quick to judge. Quick to judge means we don't get killed by a lurking lunatic."

"What's going on here?" Keith asked, stepping out of the bedroom.

"Oh, just a Veronica-ex-boyfriend reunion," Logan joked.

Veronica walked over to him and slapped him upside the head. "Jackass."

"Veronica," her father warned.

"What?" Veronica asked innocently. "He deserved it."

"I'm sure he did, honey," Keith said. "But we don't hit people in this house."

"I'd be glad to take it outside," Veronica said, smiling sweetly.

The ping from Mac's computer interrupted them. Mac and Veronica exchanged glances, knowing that whatever they found out, Logan couldn't know.

"Logan, you need to go," Veronica said, taking a few steps back.

Logan eyes jumped from Veronica to Mac, then back. "You already know something."

"You heard her, man. Go," Piz said, opening the door for him.

"I'm not taking orders from the puppy," Logan replied, standing up. A good foot taller than Veronica, he towered over her.

Piz stepped in between them. "I said, go."

"I have a right to know who stabbed me," Logan countered.

"Right now, you're a liability, Logan. You're too visible. We can't use your help," Veronica said, stepping to the side of Piz. She appreciated the sentiment, but she didn't need his protection. "And you should be resting."

"I don't need a nurse."

"You also don't need to blow your stitches."

"Come on... You know I can be of more help than any of these guys," Logan said, speaking only to Veronica.

"Not right now, you can't," Veronica replied. "Go home, Logan. Get some sleep, and stop lurking in our bushes. I'll call you when we have something."

"Come on, I'll drive you," Leo offered. "I'll meet you at the lab, Keith?"

Keith waved a yes and watched both young men exit the apartment. "This is a small apartment. How come you always manage to cram in twenty people?"

"You say Veronica Mars, you say party," Veronica quipped, leaning over Mac's shoulder.

"I have to go check on my calc grades," Wallace said. "I hate that, even when we solve the mystery, there's still so much real life to get back to."

"You mean real, college life?" Piz asked. "Hate that too."

"Grades to check, finals to take, papers to hand in, next year's classes to sign up for."

"Oh, frak, I gotta sign up, too. Else I'll end up having to take all my classes with Dean Stanton next semester," Piz said. "I'll drive you."

Piz grabbed his car keys and stuffed them in his pocket. "Be careful," he told Veronica, giving her a quick peck on the lips.

"I was just about to say the same thing," Veronica answered. "Here," he said, tossing Piz Mac's phone.

"Hey!" Mac complained.

"What? You're not getting out of my sight," Veronica explained.

"Fine! Just... don't break it," Mac warned.

"I'll be extra-careful. No dangling it from ceilings."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Call if things get hairy," she called out. Both boys waved her concern away.

"There should be special absence slips made out for this kind of thing," Veronica pointed out. "I mean, how can you be expected to attend class and solve an attempted murder?"

Her father yawned and agreed. "You shouldn't. You're supposed to go to class, not get death threats."

"Speaking of which, they've stopped coming. The threats."

"They know we're onto them," Keith explained.

"That we are," Mac said, pointing to a blinking dot on her screen. "Casablancas is on the move."

- - - - - - - - -

"How's the hand?" Piz asked, as they waited at a red light.

"Oh, you know. It sucks," Wallace explained. "Basketball is out, Leticia said."

"This Leticia is how old?"

"Twenty-five."

"Ah."

"Yeah. She's hot."

"Sorry man," Piz apologized.

"What are you sorry for? You don't think I got a shot at a twenty-five year old woman?"

Piz rolled his eyes. "I meant about the hand."

"Now I'm gonna have to go heavy on you and ask what the fuck are you sorry for?"

"Should've been me," Piz explained.

"Right. That makes total sense," Wallace said, smacking Piz upside the head.

"Ow."

"Unless you were the one that stabbed me, I don't want to hear your apology." Wallace shook his head. "You know, being Veronica's boyfriend doesn't have to immediately make you a martir. Tortured is out, in case you haven't heard."

"Oh, I've heard," Piz said, and the car started rolling again, past the newly-arrived green light.

"Good. 'Cause you're a good guy, Piznarski, and she needs a good guy. As you can see, she has enough drama in her life," Wallace explained.

"More than enough."

"Ok, then."

"Ok."

"Now, do you think I've got a shot with Leticia? You should see how she handles that needle. M-m-m-m-m!"

Piz laughed, turning the steering wheel right and heading towards campus.

- - - - - - - -

"Tell me again why we're doing exactly what your father asked us not to do?" Mac whispered, her computer in her lap.

"Because I don't wait around," Veronica replied, turning a corner.

"But what if these Castle people are tracking us?" Mac asked, her voice a whisper once again.

"If they're tracking us or listening in, whispering isn't going to help. Besides," Veronica patted the dashboard. "Eli's cousin's car. Unless it's stolen, we won't get stopped or recognized."

"We're getting closer." Mac's voice was back to normal. She double checked something on her laptop. "He just stopped."

"Good."

"Not so good, we're about to blow our cover," Mac said, looking ahead. "Dick's driving the car."

Veronica looked at the driver intently and saw that Mac was right. Dick's straight, blonde hair was clearly visible. "Shit, shit, shit."

"Can't we just act cool?" Mac asked, closing her laptop and grinning as Veronica steered herself clear of the car.

"We can try," Veronica said, slowing down as her car approached his. "Hey, Dick."

"Mars. Mac," Dick said, a bit absently. "How'd you know it was me?"

Veronica shrugged. "The hair."

"We actually didn't know it was you until a second ago. We just wanted to get a good look at the car," Mac said.

Veronica turned to look at her sharply, and Mac looked back. Dick missed the exchange, glancing out the other window looking for... someone? something?

"Oh, yeah?" Dick asked.

"Yeah. I just really liked the paint job and I wanted to ask the owner what the name of that color was."

Dick looked at Mac as if she was insane. "It's a rental, but if I had to guess, I would say blue."

"Right, but what kind of blue," Veronica said, following Mac's lead.

"Dark blue. Now if you don't mind, I'm waiting for someone." Dick looked from Veronica to Mac and shrugged. "And I'm not gonna tell you who it is."

"I wasn't going to ask. Was I, Mac?"

"No, of course not. Why would we?"

"Fine," Dick said. "Logan's in there, getting me some pot. Are you happy now?"

"Dick, he just left the hospital!" Veronica said.

"Yeah," Dick said. "He can legally buy medicinal, you know?"

"Why'd you get a rental?" Mac asked, confused.

"It's my dad's, he's got it until he goes off to jail. I borrowed it 'cause Logan's car is too nice for this part of town." Dick chuckled. "Right. You two live here."

"We're just leaving."

"Yeah, I won't tell anyone I saw you if you don't tell anyone you saw me."

"Deal."

Veronica started the car back up and rolled up the windows. "That was a complete waste of time."

"Actually, it wasn't. If Dick borrowed his father's car, means his father is on foot. How much damage can he do today, on foot?" Mac smiled. "We might have a good day yet."

"So we shouldn't stake out the motel?" Veronica pouted.

"We should take this moment of calm to do the work we've avoided all morning. Looking at other suspects and hacking into the main information sistem of the tabloid that broke news of Gorya's death."

"Have I told you how much I hate it when you're right?"

- - - - - - - -

"Yeah, baby!" Wallace called from accross the hall.

Piz, his key dangling from the door of their room, had to smile. "I'm guessing you aced your final."

"Show me some love." Wallace raised his hand.

Piz hi-fived him. "I hope that's what you were talking about."

"You have got to stop hanging out with Veronica."

Piz chuckled and pushed open the bedroom door.

The room was turned upside down. Clothes out of their drawers, mattresses slashed. Piz's guitar was smashed, the pieces held together by the strings.

"Tell me about it," Piz whispered, eyes on the floor.

**TBC...**

_Some revelations, a bit of a filler chapter. Soon there'll be smut. :)_

_di_


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note:** I just want to thank everyone who's still reading and those of you who've left reviews. Thanks a ton for sticking with this. It's also a transitional chapter. Chapter 10 will be the smutty chapter, I swear. And we should get back in the saddle for some action then too. Of the other kind. Thanks again and enjoy...

**CHAPTER 9 – Elsewhere, in Gotham City**

"Ok. Got it," Veronica said, hanging up the phone.

"Bat-signal?" Mac asked, as Veronica swerved the car dangerously to the right.

"Someone trashed the guys' room. Maybe they left behind some evidence."

"And off we go," Mac finished.

"Exactly." Her phone rang again and she answered it absently, thinking it was still the guys. "Shoot," she said.

The voice on the other line, unfamiliar and friendly, almost made her miss the red light. She all but floored the breaks. "Oh, hi Mrs. Piznarski," she said, her voice changing completely.

Mac raised both eyebrows at her, on the verge of laughter. Veronica gave her a warning glance. "No, he's not with me at the moment, but I'll probably have lunch with him in an hour or so. I can have him call you back," she offered. Mac mimicked Veronica's sweet disposition, batting her eyelashes. "Sure, Mrs. Piznarski. No problem. Nice talking to you too."

She clicked the call off and gritted her teeth. Mac laughed heartily. "I'm never gonna live that down, am I?"

Mac grinned widely. "Nope. Not a chance."

- - - - - - - - -

By the time Veronica arrived to the dorm, Piz and Wallace were immersed in a game of hacky-sack on the halway.

"Hey, guys, watcha doing?" she asked, smiling.

"Teaching Wallace how to excel at a white-man's sport," Piz replied.

"It's a good way to fight the urge to organize the damn room," Wallace added.

Mac trailed behind carrying her heavy backpack. "I'll leave the expert to this. I have to get some stuff from my room, make sure Parker doesn't feel abandoned, which she probably does."

"You're not going alone," Wallace and Piz cried out at the same time.

"O-k. Psycho-much?"

"They're right," Veronica said.

"I'll go with you," Wallace offered.

"Great, knight in shining armour and ten stitches on his hand."

"Fifteen."

"Ooh, sexy," Mac joked. "Oh, by the way, Piz, your mom called you on Veronica's phone," she added, sticking her tongue out at Veronica.

"Mac!" Veronica warned.

"What was that?" Wallace asked, amused.

Mac linked her arm with Wallace's. "Come on. I'll tell you all about it," she offered.

"What? No!" Piz attempted, but it was too late. "Great," he muttered.

"Yeah," Veronica smiled sardonically. "I talked to Mama Piznarski. She asked if you've been eating right."

"Oh, God."

She patted his back, amused. "Relax, she just said to call her back. Here," she added, handing him the phone. "Now, show me this mess."

- - - - - - - - -

"Wow."

"Yeah."

Veronica picked up a pair of boxers. "I meant, lovely color assortment."

"Those are Wallace's," Piz countered, his smile playful.

Veronica tossed them aside and wrinkled her nose. "I'll get to work," she added, pulling out her camera.

"I'm gonna -" he said, gesturing to her phone.

"Go right ahead," Veronica said, quirking a smile.

Piz pursed his lips and hesitantly chose his area of the room to call, while Veronica concentrated on Wallace's side. He dialed. "Hey, Ma," he smiled to himself as he listened to his mother wax rhetorical about Veronica's phone manners. "Yes, she is a very nice girl... Ma!" Piz blushed profusely under Veronica's questioning gaze. "Yes... uh... of course... I know... Don't make me say it out loud, it's embarassing." Piz rolled his eyes. "You're way too young to be a grandmother. Is that better? Now I'm scarred for life." Veronica giggled, a bit too loudly. "Yes, that's her. You want to talk to her?" Piz joked, his eyes fixed on Veronica. Veronica's eyes widened and she mouthed a no. "Oh, she just stepped out. Right, next time. How's everything?"

Piz listened for a while as his mother spoke of her husband's work. "And Iza?" Piz asked. "Yeah, put her on."

There was silence at the other end of the line, and Piz looked down to the floor, shuffling his shoes.

Veronica stopped her movements for half a second and turned to Piz. She found his face such a clear map of who he was, of who he wanted to be. His smile, his magical smile, appeared as he heard his sister's voice on the line.

Almost without thought, she turned his camera towards him and snapped a photograph of Piz smiling into the phone. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted his sister. The second click of the shutter alerted him to Veronica's camera, and he shielded his face from it. She took a couple more pictures of him, hand covering his features, eyes peeking between spread fingers. Then she turned back to her work.

Piz shook his head. "You asked for a pony? How's that working out for you?" A pause. "No luck? Maybe next time. Did you get what I sent you? Tell dad to let you play it in the car when you go to school, ok?" He sighed. "Maybe soon. Miss you, too. I gotta hang up, I'm borrowing a friend's phone. Have fun tomorrow, ok? Bye."

He looked up from his shoes to find Veronica looking at him, eyes bright. "What?"

She shook her head softly. "What's tomorrow?"

"Birthday," Piz said, staring back at his shoelaces. "She turns seven. I made her a music mix."

"Start training them early," Veronica acknowledged.

"Precisely."

Veronica walked a few steps towards him and took his hand. Threading her fingers with his, she seemed determined. "When do you start your internship?"

"Uh. Three weeks from Friday," Piz answered.

Veronica smiled. "I'm gonna have this stitched up before Saturday. And you'll get a chance to go home before starting the internship."

"Veronica," Piz started, but she pressed a finger to his lips.

"Later." An eyebrow raised, she turned her camera to his side of the room. "I'm working."

- - - - - - - - - -

"What could they've been looking for?" Veronica asked out loud. "Did you guys have anything in here?"

"Not inside the mattresses," Wallace said. "Not inside Piz's guitar." Wallace patted Piz's back, a sign of empathy over his murdered guitar. Piz shrugged.

"I had some money saved up in the..." Piz started, looking under the table. He removed a small envelope with a piece of tape stuck to it. "Still here."

"Good hiding place," Veronica pointed out.

"Thanks."

"Don't think that was it, though."

Mac shrugged. "Maybe they came in to plant a bug."

Veronica shook her head. "They'd leave the place intact, so we wouldn't notice. That doesn't make sense. Although..." Veronica bit down on her lower lip. "They removed a bug."

"Our beds were bugged?" Piz asked, worried.

"The mattress slashing is just for show. But think about it: they knew we were on our way to Logan's, they didn't finish the job there. They knew we were on to the letters and the letters stopped coming. Gorya placed a camera here to tape Wallace and accidentally taped us, and when he posted it we busted him. But we didn't check for audio. This place has been bugged al along. Shit. Shit. Shit." She took a deep breath. "Did you guys talk about anything relevant in here?"

Both Piz and Wallace shook their heads no.

"Ok. Let's just... You guys have to call campus police and report this, as if it was a break-in. And Mac and I will get a head start back to the apartment. Dad should get us info on the labs by tonight."

"Campus police won't do anything," Wallace pointed out.

"Yeah, but a break-in means they don't charge you for the mattress repair. And since the lock is broken..."

"It's not broken," Piz pointed out.

Veronica smiled and opened the door. With one swift kick, she broke the doorknob. "Is now."

- - - - - - - - - - -

Keith Mars had learned to get by on four hours of sleep every forty-eight hours. So far today, he'd gotten at least that much, in bits and pieces. So when his daughter walked into the apartment, he figured it would have to be enough.

"Sorry to wake you, Dad," Veronica said.

Keith smiled sleepily. "It's the life I chose. But don't say sorry, say coffee."

Mac grinned. "I'm on it, Mr. M."

"So, what's new with you crazy kids?" Keith asked.

Veronica quirked her eyebrow and conceded, there was no way to go about it sarcastically. "We trailed Casablancas Sr. only to find Jr. was driving the car. On our way back here, we got a call from the boys, their room had been trashed. So we took pictures."

"You make my head spin, sweetie."

"Sorry, Dad."

He shrugged. "Any new activity on Casablancas' car?"

Mac shook her head. "Nada. Dick took the car back and it hasn't moved since. But the trashing of the room, that must have happened sometime yesterday or last night."

"And they picked the lock, clean pick," Veronica pointed out. "Why don't people leave fingerprints like in the good old days?"

"You'd be surprised how many still do," Keith replied, tapping a finger on a sheaf of papers. "Lab results are back. Gorya was in Logan's bathroom."

"So it was Gorya," Veronica whispered.

"It was... but someone's trying to clean up all traces. His body has already been cremated, and his parents won't speak to anyone. There were no prints on Piz's stuff at the radio and your car is mangled beyond recognition. All we have is circumstantial," Keith explained.

Veronica nodded knowingly. "And circumstantial doesn't get us squat with the department."

"Wallace's attack didn't get reported. And we won't hear anything from DNA until tomorrow at the earliest."

"So, what can we do?" Veronica asked.

Her father gave her a tight hug. "You are staying here and going over everything one more time. I am staking out The Camelot."

"I could help."

"But you won't," Keith answered. "I need to not worry about you for the time being. I need you to promise you'll stay here. And really stay here."

"Dad..."

"No, Veronica. Not this time. It's one thing to accidentally wander into the River Stix. It's a completely different thing to stake out a man who's trying to kill you and your ten closest friends. You're staying here. It's the adult thing to do."

Veronica felt her the tense air around her thicken. She'd seen her father angry at her a million times. But this... worried...

She'd never let him see her this scared before. So maybe that was why he was feeling overprotective today. But he'd hit all the right notes and he had a point. A two-person stakeout was no better than a one-person stakeout.

"You'll be careful?" she asked.

"I'll be careful. You won't let any strangers into the house?" Keith smirked.

"Only if they wear a Girl Scout Uniform and bring me cookies."

"Get me some thin mints, will yah?"

- - - - - - - - -

Six o'clock seemed to signal a meeting, as it had the past few days. Piz and Wallace pored over the photographs of their messed up room, looking for something missing or something additional. Mac

was closing up shop, ready to call it a night, but she was... stalling.

Veronica could tell. "It's ok to have a crush on him," she whispered.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Mac said.

"He's been pretty good about keeping his nose clean," Veronica added. The boys were too distracted to hear but Mac looked back over to them anyway.

"I know that... Do you really think that's what I care about?" Mac asked, her whisper harsher. "Ok, I do think about that but it's... I already dumped one guy for another. Isn't it... not cool... to do that kind of thing?"

"Wow," Veronica said, taking a sip of juice. "You've thought this through."

"Well..." Mac spread her fingers in the air with a smile, before a frown crept back upon her features. She shook her head and let it drop on her hands. "What the hell am I doing?"

"Falling for an ex-gang member who drives a hog and is a really great janitor?" Veronica squinted. "He's a good friend. Loyal."

"He's older, more experienced, I can't talk about computers or punk rock to him. The only thing we have in common is you."

"Oh, come on, that's crap," Veronica said. "First of all, I don't think he's that much more experienced in that... department."

"Oh, really?"

"How many girls have you seen hanging around him? How many girlfriends of his did we meet?" Veronica sighed. "Do the math. Every other PCHer in his age bracket already has two kids. I used to think he was gay, imagined him all Scorpio Rising, leather vests..." Mac frowned at her, so Veronica decided to cut through the bullshit. "He was thisclose to graduating high school, he's got his GED. He gave up a dangerous lifestyle voluntarily. Well, semi-voluntarily." Veronica shrugged. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

"Maybe it's not the heart that wants. It's other parts of me that... wants..." Mac explained, blushing profusely.

"He won't ask you out, you know? He'll flirt, but he's... a macho man... he won't ask you out like a normal guy."

"What's a normal guy?" Mac asked. "I give up. I'm just gonna... go with the flow."

"How do you think Max will feel about that?"

Mac shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I haven't seen him in over a week. You must know how much work is involved in running a cheating site during finals, right?"

"I gather you're not happy."

"You gather right." Mac tapped her fingers on the counter. "I tried to get past it, but I can't. Ugh, I hate this girl talk. It always drudges up these... feelings."

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Veronica said, resting her head on Mac's shoulder. "We should have ice cream and candy and paint our toenails. Instead we're watching a dot blinking on a map."

"See, we can't even do girl talk right."

"You guys find anything strange in those photos?" Veronica asked.

Piz looked up from the screen twice, then shook his head. "We didn't see anything in person either. Just a complete mess."

"The campus police kept looking back and forth at us, asking if we'd had a party "go wrong". They kept staring at my hand," Wallace explained.

The knock on the door made Mac jump a few inches. Neither of the guys noticed, thankfully. "Be cool, girl."

"Cucumber's my middle name."

"Who is it?" Veronica called, a sing-song to her voice.

"Who do you think, _güera_?" Eli's voice asked.

"Step inside the Batcave," Veronica said, her arms wide.

"Not staying long. I got some news," Weevil said, all business. This time, Piz and Wallace did pay attention.

He placed three files flat on the kitchen table. "Three stab wounds, upper arm. All non-critical's what Leticia said. I gotta get the files back to her before the end of the shift."

"When's that?" Veronica asked, leafing through them.

"An hour," Eli said.

"Wallace, Piz, get cracking."

"Is Richard Casablancas one of them?" Mac asked.

Veronica shook her head. "No, but he could've used a false name."

"There was no police follow up to these last night, wanna guess why?" Eli asked, his eyes on Mac.

"Why?" Mac asked.

"Because last night, the police got an anonymous tip about a drug sale going down, close to where this russian pal of yours got shot." Eli shrugged. "Two Fitzpatricks and one deputy got shot. Memorial was too busy to do follow up."

"Neptune Memorial has a history of screwing up," Mac volunteered.

"That's not Leticia's beef," Eli replied.

"How old is this Casablancas guy?" Piz asked.

"Let me check," Mac said, leaning into her computer. "He was graduating from college in 1974, which means he was 22 then, so..."

"Got it," Piz said, handing Veronica a file.

"This says Darren Lewis," Veronica said.

"Yeah, but look at the age. Fifty-five. It's hard to lie about your age. I would guess it's specially hard when you're bleeding."

"I've got a twenty year old and a thirty year old," Wallace added. "Even in good shape, that man can't fake thirty."

"Let's copy all three," Veronica said. "My printer doubles as a copier," she told Mac. "Priorities are the fifty-five year old and the twenty-year old. Both are age brackets that tend to, uh, hate me."

Mac nodded, moving her computer into the room where the printer was.

"Hurry up, _mi China_," Eli called after her, grinning. "Getting Leticia fired is not something I want to do."

"I'll copy as fast as I can, Eli," Mac called back. "Sit on your hands if you must."

Eli raised an eyebrow, a response almost on his lips when Veronica stopped him. "Don't. You want her to work fast? Don't flirt."

"Whatever you say, V," Eli smiled. "Anything in particular you want to do while we wait?"

Piz raised his hand. "I make a mean grilled cheese," he volunteered.

- - - - - - - - - -

"White boy wasn't lying," Eli said, his sandwich half-gone. He left the other half to rest on the plate.

"White boy has a name," Wallace offered.

"Actually, it's a nickname," Piz corrected.

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Play nice or I'll take away your sandwiches."

"I am playing nice. If I play any nicer and I'm gonna have to start wearing knee-socks," Eli complained.

Veronica slid her arm around Piz's waist. "Don't get crumbs on my hair, oh, tall one," she joked.

Piz smiled. "Not my fault you're short."

"I'll be nice if you two stop torturing us with cuteness," Weevil offered.

"Hmm, let me think about that," Veronica attempted, still leaning into Piz as he polished off his sandwich. "I don't often get to be cute."

Veronica's phone beeped just then, prompting a cry of "Divine Justice" from Eli. "It's my dad," Veronica explained. "Checking in."

"Any movement?" Wallace asked. She shook her head and texted back to her father. "He says it's been quiet. I'm telling him _same here_."

"Done!" Mac said, bounding into the kitchen with the three folders. "I put everything back just as it was."

"Here," Weevil said, handing her the saved half of his sandwich. "Gotta go." He grabbed the folders and waved at everyone.

"Uh, thanks?" Mac attempted.

Weevil grinned from the doorway. "No problem."

Veronica glanced sideways at Mac. "That's your in."

"What?" Mac asked, taking a bite of the sandwich.

"I'll explain some other time. You guys should get home. Clear your heads," Veronica offered.

Mac and Wallace nodded in agreement.

"I left the tracking system running on your laptop," Mac added. She took one final bite of her sandwich and gave Piz a thumbs up.

Piz gave her one back. "I was about to make you one."

Mac shook her head. "I'm good," she added, grabbing her backpack and car keys.

"We'll see you guys tomorrow," Wallace said. "Behave."

With all seriousness, Veronica nodded. "I'll be a very good girl."

Behind her back, Piz could see her fingers were crossed.

**TBC...**

As you could see, I just wanted to recap the action a bit, bring all the characters up to speed. Next chapter ought to be filled with smutty goodness...

**Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think. **

**di **


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: Just a quick thanks to those of you still reading and reviewing. The following is, as promised, a lovely M-Rated, smut-filled chapter. Please welcome Chapter 10, in which our heroes engage in a close encounter of the first-time kind, and in which plot advances. Please let me know what you think!**

**CHAPTER 10 - **

Lips against skin and clothes flying off. That was how it happened, or so she would say if interrogated.

It had started as a kiss in the kitchen, a thank you for artfully-made sandwiches. But then, with no warning, she was pressed against the fridge, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, his body flush against hers. His mouth trailed kisses down her neck, his strong arms kept her stable. Refrigerator magnets got knocked off and scattered.

She had started tugging at his shirt, and he made a conscious decision, probably the last fully-mental decision of the night. He carried her into the bedroom, avoiding sharp corners of furniture and doorways. He closed the door, almost tripping on his shoes. He set her down, her feet touching the floor softly.

The stood, forehead to forehead. Maybe she was standing on the tips of her toes, maybe he was slouching. It was hard enough to breathe without concentrating on the details. Their eyes locked and he was certain he'd never been this close to her. Ever. He could see every one of her eyelashes, feel every time she exhaled.

She pulled off his t-shirt as he attempted to open her blouse, the buttons so tiny he felt ridiculously inadequate. He felt almost like he was fumbling.

She kissed him hard and he forgot about the buttons for a second, until she pushed him away. A mischeivous glint in her eyes, she started undoing the buttons one by one, just out of his grasp. He watched, mesmerized as she put on a show for him, slowly unbuttoning her blouse.

But she didn't take it off. Every button undone, it hung on her, just waiting to be pushed off.

He did just that. His lips on her neck, his hands pushed the fabric until it slid off her shoulders. Her bare shoulders that he just needed to kiss.

Her breathing grew shallow as he moved behind her, kissing the top of her spine, his hands fanning out on her belly and holding her close. He moved to unhook her bra, his fingers sliding under the elastic. Slowly he let the straps drop from her shoulders and then he was there, his hands cupping he breasts, hands too large for such small breasts, she thought. He didn't say how perfect she was because he thought it wasn't time for overstating matters.

He kissed her nape, the tiny hairs standing on end at contact.

His hands slid down her belly, to the top of her jeans. He took a breath to ask for permission, but she nodded swiftly, getting there before him.

She leaned back into him as he undid the top button, the slowly unzipped. He pushed her jeans gently past her hips, his thumb tracing her navel. The pants rested atop her feet for a while, as his hands travelled to her thighs, back up her hips. He smiled against her skin and she could almost feel it. "What?" she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

"Nothing," he whispered back, his voice almost giddy. That he made her lose her breath...

"Your turn," she said, turning to face him. Her hands on his hips kept him just far enough, not close enough to kiss her, but close enough to inhale the scent of her shampoo. He leaned into her hair, groaning as her fingers skimmed the top of his jeans. "Good. It's about time," she whispered. He smiled, his hands moving to graze her back. She shivered. "You're kinda knocking my concentration."

"That's the point," Piz said, laughing.

She felt his breath on her scalp and she smiled too. "Ooh, button fly," she said, her fingers undoing the top button. Piz sucked in his breath. She laughed. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

She slowly, tortuously, undid the rest of the buttons, her fingers lingering over him. His jeans dropped to the floor with a plop.

Veronica looked up into his eyes. He was waiting for her to make a move.

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

Piz leaned in to kiss her, lips meeting lips. She pushed his boxers off and he tried to keep his focus, but it was impossible, his lips stilling for a fraction of a second as she left him completely naked. His hands made their way up to her face, and he kissed her with so much more force.

She broke the kiss, a smile on her lips and in her eyes. She took a moment to look at him. All of him. Even in the dimly lit room, she could tell his cheeks were flushed. She felt a rush of heat as her eyes scanned his body. He was hard for her, his eyes devoured her.

She felt parched, her mouth dry at the sight of him.

She took a few steps back, towards the bed, and tilted her head to the side, beckoning him closer. He didn't need much by way of beckoning. The sight of her, prancing around in just her panties, was more than enough. He stepped out of his jeans and bent over for half a second to pick something out of his backpack. Two foil packets.

She was thinking of a clever thing to say, but he didn't let her get to it. He dropped the condoms on her dresser by the bed and then he closed in on her. His mouth covered hers and suddenly, they were attempting to defy the laws of physics, somehow trying to occupy the very same space. Her hands travelled down his body, touching him, revelling in the muscles and skin. Her short nails dragged on his hips and she could feel him tense under her touch. His eyes closed as her hands ventured lower still, fingers closing around him. He moaned her name into her mouth and pushed her hand away.

And then she was lying on her bed, his hands dragging her panties down her legs, as he nipped at the skin behind her knee, between her thighs. "Piz," she hummed, her voice strained.

His breath hit her first, warm air and then the pull of his mouth just where she needed it most. His tongue, hot and... she felt a moan leave her mouth and bounce off the walls. Then another. He licked her slowly, sucking her in...

Her hips began to move to the rhythm he'd set and she felt a wave of heat rising as he stroked her just to the edge of her breaking point.

And he stopped.

She gasped, confused. In the haze of heightened sensations, she couldn't understand. "Don't stop," she pleaded. "Please..."

He smiled, taking a second to torture her. He sucked on her inner thigh and trailed kisses on her skin until he was back at her center. And then he renewed his assault.

Two quick flicks of his tongue and she was there, undone, throbbing, her moans nonsensical combinations of his name and curse words.

He travelled back up her body, lapping up stray beads of sweat as he went along. He kissed her chin, her neck, waiting for her eyes to open. He nibbled on her earlobe before whispering, "You taste so fucking good."

"Hmmm...." she managed, smiling through closed eyes. "You..."

In any other occasion, he would have grinned, satisfied, but this wasn't any other occasion. There was something different. Not just the empty apartment, or the tacit permission she gave him. It was about them. He wanted her so badly and, for the first time in their short relationship, he could tell they were on the same page. He whispered into her ear, something only for her, his arm reaching for one of the condoms.

"You boyscout you," she whispered, eyes hungry. She sucked on his collarbone, smiling. Glowing. There was something light about intimacy with Piz. It felt new, untarnished. She felt new.

He ripped open the foil packet and felt Veronica's hand on his. "Let me," she said.

He nodded slowly.

Piz sat on the edge of the bed, and Veronica climbed atop him, her legs straddling his hips. She grinned, eyes sparkling, as she slowly stroked him.

He groaned against her shoulder. "Veronica," he said, and even her name felt new on his lips.

She rolled the condom on him, carefully, and she felt him jump in her hands. She laughed. "Hey," he said, eyes half-lidded as he brought her closer. "It's not fair to laugh at my predicament."

"Laughing with you," she whispered. Their eyes trained on each other, Veronica used her hands to guide him to her center.

Contact was delicious, resistance was futile.

Nose to nose, lips to lips, eyes too close to focus. They breathed each other in as Piz entered her slowly. His hands steadied her hips. She bit down on her lower lip, her grin disappearing gradually, replaced by a slow revelling in this new reality. She gasped when she felt him inside her completely.

He waited half a second, breathing her in. He gave them a moment to adjust, his hands running up and down her back. She leaned in, her lips brushing his, her arms settling on his shoulders. He trapped her lower lip between his teeth, teasing her. His tongue danced across her teeth, dipped into her mouth. Slowly he started their movements, easing himself out of her and then back in, setting a langourous pace. She whimpered into his mouth with every thrust.

There was something messy about sex with Piz, she thought for half a second before he thrust inside her again. Something completely uncalculated and spontaneus. The way he pulled her closer, changing the angle, speeding up his thrusts to meet the climax building inside her. The way his arms surrounded her. The way his mouth dragged on her neck, to her breasts. And he would groan in pleasure as he thrust deeper and deeper into her.

And his smile, that knowing smile when she moaned, when her back arched.

Fun.

It was fun.

Her hips moved to meet his thrusts and he thanked whatever gods he needed to thank that he had his feet firmly planted on the ground, helping with the whole leverage thing. His hands on her shoulderblades, he could feel her body tense around him. But her face... her eyes, half-lidded, unguarded, her mouth showing the beginnings of a smile.

Naked. Truly naked.

He smiled against the skin of her neck and softly whispered in her ear. Her name. Nothing but her name.

She shivered. "Close," she whispered, and he knew she was. "So close." And there it was. A shadow of a smile.

Somehow, invoking any and all athletic expertise, he managed to flip them on the bed, until he was on top of her. Entering her again, he kept his thumb on her clit, pressing down. And he thrust inside her, again and again. So close. He felt her tighten and contract, her back arching off the bed, his name a hiss between her lips.

Two more thrusts and he was right there with her.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, kissing her shoulder softly as their movements stilled, her name a prayer.

A couple of minutes later, when all the mundane aspects had been dealt with, he lay beside her, naked still, soft kisses on her shoulder.

Just as naked.

She reached up her hand to push his hair off his forehead, while he kept drawing circles on her belly. "Mmmmm," he hummed, his eyes half-closed.

She giggled. Could she remember the last time she'd giggled?

"What?" he asked, his eyes opening. His index finger drew a straight line from her navel to her chin, and she laughed this time.

"That was fun," she said. "Really fun."

Piz quirked an eyebrow. "Fun?" he asked, his smile widening.

She laughed. Full on, belly laugh.

"I'm going to take this the best possible way," Piz said, resting his head on the pillow and looking up at her ceiling.

She caught his hand in both of hers and kissed his open palm. "You should," she said, the laughter subsiding.

He caught a glimpse of her in the darkened room. Her smile was even better than her afterglow.

"So... Fun? That's what I get?" he asked.

Veronica contained a laugh. "These things are fun and fun is good."

"You're quoting Dr. Seuss at me?" Piz laughed. "Don't I feel sexy."

"You should feel very sexy," Veronica said, her consonants dragging in some fake accent. She rested her head on his shoulder, grinning.

"I should?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "Enlighten me."

"You made me laugh... you made me... you know..." she blushed and he smiled. He'd made her blush. "All in the middle of this fraking week. You are my superhero."

"Hmm," Piz said, pulling her closer. "I could get used to being a superhero."

"My superhero."

"Your superhero."

"Now, my superhero, I suggest we take a shower and get in our jammies, lest we fall asleep naked and wake up to shocked parental unit."

"Did you just say _we _should take a shower?" Piz asked, raised eyebrow and smiling eyes.

"Oi, Piznarski, you are one smooth superhero guy."

- - - - - - - - - -

Daybreak filtered in through the blinds obscenely early. This was one thing he had yet to get accustomed to in California: early, inclemently sunny mornings starting at five-thirty AM during summer.

Piz turned to find an empty space beside him. No matter how early he woke up, Veronica always

had a head start.

He sat up and stretched his arms. His legs were, of course, killing him, but it was a decent trade off for the previous night. He shuffled to the doorway on bare feet, only to find Keith Mars staring back at him from the kitchen, with Veronica nowhere in sight. "Morning, Stosh," Keith said. "Coffee?"

"Uh, thanks Mr. Mars," he answered, his hands pressing down on his hair. Awkward, he thought. Very awkward. "Veronica?"

"You called?" Veronica asked from the living room, where she'd just been out of sight, going through tabloids.

"Morning," he said.

"You look different, Stosh. Doesn't he look different, honey?" Keith asked, pouring Piz a cup of coffee.

Piz stammered, before deciding to say nothing.

"It's probably just his hair," Veronica said from behind the paper.

"Probably," Keith agreed. "No movement on the Casablancas front. I'm gonna sleep a couple of hours before heading over to the Lab."

Piz narrowed his eyes. "Doesn't the new sheriff mind you hanging around?"

"Ah, you see Stosh, for Vinnie Van Lowe to care if I'm at the Lab, he'd first have to figure out where said Lab is located," Keith clarified. "And with that bit of parting wisdom, I leave you."

"You have a nice nap," Veronica called.

Once Keith was out of earshot, Piz's eyes widened. "What was that all about?" he asked.

Veronica lowered her paper. "He has this weird psychic ability..." she answered.

"Creepy."

"He's just messing with you," Veronica offered. "Did you know it only takes fourteen aliens to change a lightbulb?"

Piz took a long sip of coffee. "No, I did not know that."

"Ah, the beauty of the Morning Starr. They took over the Inquisitor and, at first, there was some editorial hostility. You know, one wanted a picture of a naked aliens, the other wanted a picture of a Naked Katie Holmes abducted by naked aliens. Finally, they figured out how much they had in common."

"Here's to naked aliens," Piz said, raising his cup to hers. They clinked mugs. "Do I get a kiss good morning or is this the way you treat all your men?"

"I guess since you didn't see the revolving door in my closet, I'm gonna have to kiss you," Veronica offered. She leaned towards him and captured his mouth in hers, pulling away just as he started to deepen the kiss. "I'd love to take this to its logical conclusion but I have work to do."

"I have one last shift at the radio for the graduation announcements. The ceremony's this afternoon," Piz explained. "You'll have to count out my sleuthing skills."

"I think I'll manage," Veronica said, glancing back at the paper. "Ooh, look, flying fish!"

Piz pulled the tabloid away, as she clutched it tightly. "Let go, woman."

"Neveeeeeer," she called out, following Piz around the kitchen as he ran away from her, tabloid in hand.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Piz hummed to himself on his way to pick up Wallace, and then, when Wallace got in the car, he kept right on humming. He hummed at every stoplight, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Why are you so happy all of a sudden?" Wallace asked.

Piz stopped humming but couldn't stop smiling. "I'm always happy."

"No. Sometimes you're mopey, and sometimes you're silly. But you don't hum all the time. Unless... Aw, man?!" Wallace attempted.

"What?" Piz asked.

Wallace closed his eyes, as if shielding himself from something. "Don't tell me, I don't need to know. What you and Veronica do is your business."

"I wasn't going to tell you anything," Piz pointed out.

"Humming is just as bad as telling."

"It's just humming."

"It's sex humming."

Piz chuckled. "Sex humming, huh?"

"Yeah."

Piz turned the radio up and kept right on humming.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The cafeteria was buzzing with the breakfast crowd. Piz walked in to what seemed almost a sea of people, compared to the last time he'd been in here. No puddle of blood. A couple of girls sped past him, their graduation robes balled up in their hands.

He had the morning's first shift but he was still surprised to find Weevil, wearing his janitor overalls and waiting by the door to the station. Piz offered a handshake. Weevil took it.

"Do you need to..." Piz asked, pointing to the door.

"Nah. I just wanted to check up on things around here. I couldn't stop by V's place this morning," Eli explained.

"She's supposed to be there all day, watching the blinking light on the surveillance system. I'm not buying it," Piz explained, opening the door to the station and flicking on the light and power switches.

"Hey, mind if I take a look around? I wanted to the other day, but with Fennel bleeding and all..."

Piz shrugged. "Knock yourself out. The records are in the back."

"I'll steer clear of the equipment," Eli said.

"As long as you don't touch the presets on the broadcast console, everything's cool."

"Everything's cool until something gets lost and there's a chicano in the room," Weevil muttered.

"Veronica trusts you," Piz said, walking into the broadcast booth. Through the glass he saw Weevil laugh to himself, aware of the implication of what Piz had just said. Veronica's trust, so hard to earn, was Eli's. And that, in and of itself, made him trustworthy in Piz's eyes.

Piz adjusted his headphones and turned the "on the air" light in the broadcast desk. Pulling the microphone closer, he said, "Good morning, Hearst and let's hear it for the class of 2007."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Piz was down to the last record of his shift when he noticed someone outside the broadcast booth. Squinting, he could make out the shadow of a tall male. Not Eli.

He let the song start and walked up to the glass. Upon closer inspection, he found himself staring back at Logan.

Piz would have rolled his eyes, but it wasn't the appropriate response to whatever brought Logan here.

At least there had been no bursting into the booth.

Piz signaled for Andy, a sophomore who was taking over the next shift, to step inside the cabin. They exchanged a handshake and Piz stepped outside to the control room.

Logan offered his hand. Piz hesitated a second, but shook it.

"Weevil mentioned you were around," Logan said.

Piz nodded. He started towards his locker, Logan trailing not far behind. "Weevil doesn't strike me as a person who mentions things."

"Yeah, well, he owed me a favor. I asked about Veronica, and he gave me your coordinates. Which, I guess, makes it official," Logan explained.

Piz grabbed his backpack from the locker and glanced at his watch. "I'm hungry. Are you hungry?" he asked.

"I didn't come here to bond, Piznarski."

"That's fine by me," Piz answered. "But I'm going to have lunch now. And you can either sit down and watch me eat while you ask questions, or you can also get lunch."

"Lunch?"

"Yes. Revolutionary idea, right? A meal at approximately noon."

"Sarcasm. Cute," Logan muttered. "I'm not sharing my fries," he added, following Piz out of the station.

- - - - - - - - - -

Veronica was, for lack of a better word, bored.

So when the blinking light on her computer started to beep and move, it didn't take her more than a fraction of a second to make a bad call.

She took her laptop and the keys to Weevil's car and set out.

- - - - - - - - - -

Piz dug into his burger with gusto, trying to seem cool. He knew, of course, that it was almost impossible for him to appear cool. The best he could do was aloof, and there was no way of being aloof at the moment.

"So... I know you didn't come here for the nachos," Piz said, since he was already on the receiving end of Logan's murderous stare.

"Or the chili," Logan added. "I'm gonna cut the crap and go straight to the point."

"Thank Darwin," Piz muttered, grabbing a fry. "Shoot."

"What have you found out?" Logan asked.

"If Veronica hasn't told you, there's probably a reason for it," Piz attempted.

"Yeah, that she hates me."

"Have you considered the possibility that it isn't about you?"

"Considered and discarded it," Logan said.

Piz gulped down some soda, taking a second before answering. "I can't tell you what she's found out, but I can tell you that there are a couple of leads that Veronica and her father are looking into."

"And what, you're the sidekick now?" Logan asked.

Piz shrugged. "Don't you have the nagging sensation that you're asking the wrong questions?"

"What would be the right question to ask, oh, Jedi Master?" Logan quipped. Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

"Look, Logan," Piz started, biting back his temper. "The only reason I tolerate you is that you mean something to Veronica. You have a history with her, and I can't win over that. But I'm not backing off either. And maybe I do sound like a Star-Wars-geek, but you know as well as I what the real question you want to ask is."

Logan looked away. "How is she?" he asked. "How is she really?"

Piz smiled into his drink. "She's good," he said, not looking up. "She's stubborn and beautiful and... she's good."

"The first two are gonna get her killed."

"I don't think you can take her away from danger. You just have to hope she won't be as reckless as she tends to be." Piz gave Logan a sympathetic look. "It's a long shot, though."

"Word for the wise: Don't hire a bodyguard to protect her," Logan offered, biting into his burger.

"Duly noted."

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Then, out of nowhere, Logan asked, "You got a cellphone?"

Piz showed Logan the cellphone he was carrying. "I'm using Mac's phone. Mine... broke."

"She has my number in there. And I have hers. So if there's ever any need to..." Logan trailed off, shrugging.

"Ok."

"Ok."

Logan stood up and took his tray. Piz didn't have any good parting words. "How's the... stab wound?" he asked.

Logan shrugged. "Getting there. How're the bruises?"

Piz shrugged. "Gone."

By way of a peace offering, neither chose to say anything else.

- - - - - - - - -

Veronica muttered to herself in the car. The tracking signal kept had been strong just moments ago, but she couldn't quite spot the car in the large parking lot of the mall, and the signal was getting weaker, but it wasn't moving.

Dammit.

Then she spotted it.

The car wash.

It was functioning, which meant there was a car inside. The interference of the machines would make the signal weaker and, if the car was being detailed after, someone would pick up on the tail. It was the only thing she could think of.

There were no waiting cars in line. She swore under her breath, and drove towards the car wash.

In the back of her head, she knew this was a bad idea.

But she pushed the thought aside and rolled up her windows.

She drove onto the platform the pushed the car forward and set the shift on neutral.

The sound of the warm water being sprayed against her windows dulled the sound of her cellphone, and she caught it ringing almost at the last ring. It was Piz calling from Mac's phone.

"Hey," she said, yelling over the squeaking sound of the wipers. "Everything ok?"

"_Hey, so I'm done here and... What's that noise?" _Piz asked from the other end. _"Where are you?"_

"Carwash down by the Plaza parking lot. I'm tailing Casablancas Sr., and our tracking device just got hosed down," Veronica said, wincing. She knew he was just calling to check on things, but she also knew he'd be worried.

"_You're alone?"_ Piz asked, about to go into a reprimand. She could feel the disappointment in his voice, but he didn't sound surprised.

"Look, relax, I'm just gonna follow him to the-"

Just then she felt the door of the car open, jets of warm water streaming inside. She screamed, dropping the phone. She scrambled for it, knowing it would be the only way to get traced. A large hand grabbed her by the hair, dragging her out of the car.

- - - - - - - - - - -

A scream. Then a thud.

And Piz just knew.

He dialed Keith Mars' number but it went straight to voicemail.

No time.

Dammit.

He ran to his car and peeled out of the parking lot with little care for passersby. He opened Mac's flip phone with his left hand and searched for a number. "Come on, come on. Lauren, Leah..."

No Logan. There was, however, a Loudmouthed Asshole. And that was worth a shot.

"_Hello, you've reached Logan, and here's today's inspirational message: It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle."_

"Loudmouthed asshole alright," Piz muttered.

He hung up and redialed. On the second ring, Logan finally picked up. _"Miss me already?"_ he asked, sarcastically.

"They got her," Piz said. "Plaza Car Wash."

On the other side of the line, Logan found only one word. _"Fuck."_

**TBC...**

**Author's note 2: Was that a little rushed? I'm feeling a little insecure about this chapter, it's one of my favorites, but still... Anyway, feedback is always appreciated.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: **_Aw, please show me some love... drop me a little note telling me what you think... Anyhow, thanks for reading (I see the stats, I know you guys are around here somewhere) and we are drawing to a close... Here's to chapter 11!!_

**Chapter 11 - Public Enemies?**

Piz had never cursed so much in his life. The word fuck just rolled off his tongue, and his skin was red with worry.

He'd rushed to the parking lot, a twenty-minute drive reduced to fifteen minutes, only to find Logan's car there already. He ran out of his car with no plan, nothing except the gnawing in his stomach. The machinery was off, water dripping onto the roof of the car Veronica had been driving. Logan was beside it, staring at the empty car.

"Did she take her phone?" Piz asked, going into emergency mode.

"What?" Logan asked, turning to him. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Logan slammed Piz into the car. This time, fully aware of Logan's next move, Piz pushed his chest, taking Logan by surprise. His arm under Logan's neck, Piz pushed Logan back against the car in an elemental chokehold. "Snap the fuck out of it, Echolls," he said. "If Veronica has her phone, Mac can track her."

Logan took a few deep breaths. "You're supposed to take care of her."

"Yeah, well, moping about it isn't going to get you anywhere." Piz handed him Mac's cellphone. "Call Mac on her home number. Tell her to track Veronica's phone."

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'm checking the car and getting it out of this wet mess," Piz said.

- - - - - - - - -

Piz took out Veronica's purse and computer, miraculously dry. He checked inside the glove compartment, but didn't find anything. "Let's go."

"Where?" Logan asked.

"Do you know what motel Dick's father is staying at?"

He nodded. "Why?"

"I'll explain on the way," Piz said.

"We take my car," Logan ordered.

"Fine. Let's take the flashy car that calls attention wherever it goes.. Hand me the phone."

Piz got in the passenger's seat of Logan's four-wheel drive mastondon, dialing Keith Mars' number again. Nothing. He dialed Mac's house again. "No, it's Piz," he answered, as she greeted Logan. "Look, Veronica's dad isn't answering and you don't have Leo's phone in here, so... Yeah, he said he'd be at the Lab. Thanks." He listened while Mac rattled off some additional information. "Got it. The last thing she said was that the tracking device on the rental got soaked."

He hung up. "Mac says she should be able to triangulate the position in fifteen minutes, but we should keep heading where we're heading."

"We'll be there in ten," Logan said. "Now, explain."

So Piz explained. As much as he knew, about Gorya, the Castle, and Richard Casablancas Sr.

"Does Dick know?" Logan asked, turning the steering wheel left.

"Not as far as we know." Piz glanced at Logan. "He was worried about you."

Logan punched the dashboard, hard. "Dick doesn't deserve this crap."

"Neither does Veronica."

Logan nodded quietly. "We're five minutes out. What's your plan?"

"I don't have a plan. I have a taser." He pulled the taser out. Sparks.

"I have a gun," Logan countered.

"Figured as much. Do you know how to use it?" Piz asked.

"Of course I know. Do you?"

Piz shrugged. "A gun, no. A shotgun, maybe. I used to shoot rabbit back in Oregon. The state's big on fishing and hunting. Not my idea of fun, but family's family."

"Do you always talk so fucking much?" Logan asked.

"When I'm nervous, yes. Do you always bitch this much?"

"Yes."

Logan pulled into The Camelot's parking lot. "What room is it?" Piz asked.

Logan nodded towards the second floor. "206."

"Do you see the rental?"

Logan looked around. "Nope. It's not here. Dick and I were using it the other day, I would've spotted it."

"Let's check anyway," Piz said, taking out the taser.

Logan nodded, taking the gun and placing it on his waist. "I'll take the right."

Piz nodded, taking the stairs on the left.

They reached the door of the room and Piz knew what having no plan meant. Logan kicked the door in, police-movie style, garnering nothing but a broken door and calling attention to themselves.

The room was empty, clothes strewn, sheets ruffled.

And a blood stained t-shirt in the bathroom sink. "Wallace managed to cut the guy who attacked him," Piz pointed out.

"I saw this asshole yesterday. I... He was this close," Logan said. "I didn't notice."

"Where could the guy go? Any property he used to own?"

"He used to own half of Neptune," Logan said. "But I don't think he'd risk it."

"Think Echolls. Where could they be?" Piz pressed. His phone rang just then. "It's Mac."

"Great stealth, Piznarski. Put your fucking phone on vibrate or something."

Piz glared at Logan and flipped the phone open. Logan was right, but Piz didn't acknowledge this, he just nodded as he heard Mac speak about triangulation and directions and losing the signal. "Where did you lose the signal?" Piz asked.

Logan could make out part of what Mac said over the phone.

"Ok, Mac, I need you to find a map of Neptune. Trace a line from the carwash to where the signal was lost. Got it?" Piz asked. "Good. Now follow that line through the closest main streets. Yeah, the most logical to take, traffic-wise." Piz waited. Logan looked at him dumbfounded. What was he up to? "Tell me the three closest Casablancas properties, and anything else that stands out."

Piz took a pen out of his pocket and wrote on the back of his right hand. "Ok. Got it. Wait..." He looked up at Logan, his pen stopped in mid-air. "Can Dick's father get into the Grand?"

"It's not like the Grand ostracizes criminals," Logan pointed out.

Piz pursed his lips. "Ok, Mac, I need you to get through to Mr. Mars now. Tell him those places, and tell him about the Grand, ok? We're heading there." He hung up.

"Why the Grand?" Logan asked. "Dick and I could be there, it makes no sense."

"On a scale of one to ten, how much does Dick's father care about his son?"

"Sub-zero," Logan replied.

"You must get where I'm going with all this."

"I thought you believed in the good in people. Lover, not a fighter."

"Neptune does have a way of fucking with your head," Piz said, leading the way back to the car.

- - - - - - - - -

The blindfold came off somewhere in the subterranean parking lot of the Neptune Grand. Veronica took a few deep breaths as Richard Casablancas Sr. pulled her out of the trunk of his car. He found and tossed her cellphone, then stuffed her in the trunk, halfway through the ride.

It had been longer than it normally took to get to the Grand, they'd made a couple of stops. Veronica was dizzy from the car fumes and there was a sort of daze that came with Richard Casablanca's untying her hands.

"Don't think about it," Casablancas said. "I can and will blow your brains out."

"You're gonna do it anyway," Veronica said.

"Maybe. Do you really want to test that?"

Veronica closed her mouth. If she had any hope of learning why this was happening, it was to get to wherever Casablancas was taking her.

"You're gonna walk calmly to that service elevator. And you're going to be a lady if we find someone else in that elevator. Or I'll make sure your daddy's next after I'm done with you. People are expecting my call." He placed the gun on the small of her back and grabbed her arm. "You got that?"

Veronica nodded.

"Good," he said, leading them to the elevator.

They met no one on the way. Veronica felt a sense of relief at this. Casablancas had no qualms about killing anyone.

Panic started to set in once he stepped inside the elevator and, sliding the key card through the sensor, he pressed the button for the Penthouse.

- - - - - - - -

"What the fuck is going on with this traffic?" Logan cursed.

Piz peered out the window. He could see the column of cars stretching as far as his eye could see. "It's impossible." He glanced at the GPS system on Logan's car. "Does this thing work?"

"Yeah, it works."

"Do you have the roadside assistance activated?" Piz asked.

"Yeah."

"Dial."

"What?" Logan looked at Piz as though he was insane.

"Dial. I saw this in a movie once," Piz shrugged. Logan dialed, the roadside assistance on speaker phone. "Roadside Help and Rescue, how may we be of service?"

"Help, please, I'm trying to get my brother to the hospital but we're stuck in traffic," Piz yelled, doing his best acting.

Logan was unamused.

"Sir, please calm down and explain," the lady on the line asked.

"My brother... we got in an accident and now we're stuck in traffic, the ambulance will never get here in time, please just tell me some other way to get to Neptune Memorial avoiding this street, my brother..." Piz punched Logan hard enough to make him groan. "Oh, God, did you hear that? He can't breathe."

"Sir, ok, listen to me. From what I can see here, your car is stuck near the corner of Peach and Plaza. Do you see the Mall parking lot to your right?"

Piz turned. "Yes, I see it."

"Ok, if you can make your way into the Parking lot, it has an exit that will drop you straight into Main. From there it's two blocks up and two left to Neptune Memorial. Do you need me to call ahead for an ambulance, Sir?"

"Thank you so much," Piz said, cutting off the call. "And from Neptune Memorial, it's two blocks east to the Grand." Piz tossed his phone back at Logan, who let it drop to the floor.

"Your acting sucks," Logan pointed out. "I don't know how that worked."

"Only thing that matters is that it worked. What are you waiting for, an invitation?" Piz asked. "Turn right."

"Aye, Aye, Cap'n."

Neither of them heard Logan's phone vibrating softly at his feet.

- - - - - - - - -

The elevator stopped at the penthouse.

As the doors opened, Veronica could hear Dick's voice. For a fraction of a second, Veronica pondered the idea that Dick might be in on all of it, but it was an idea that faded quickly.

Dick's voice became sharper as Veronica and Casablancas approached, and she could make out his words. A grocery list. "Again with the fucking inspirational messages. Anyway, man, don't forget the jalapeños, ok? Just 'cause you can't eat them doesn't mean I have to diet." He turned away from the balcony at the sound of footsteps. "Hey, man, I was just calling you," Dick added, before he realized what was going on.

"What the fuck, dad?" he asked, when faced with his father holding a gun to Veronica's temple. He hadn't hung up. Veronica quickly tried to calculate the odds of Logan listening to the message quickly. It didn't look good.

"Son, throw that phone off the balcony or I will blow her brains out."

Veronica had to give Dick some credit. When choosing between her life and that of his cellphone, he didn't flinch. He tossed the cellphone over the ledge. "What's going on, Dad?" Dick asked. She could hear the pain in his voice.

"Get me that chair. And that string from the drapes," Dick's father ordered. "Now."

He pressed the gun harder against Veronica's temple. If she ever got out of this, she was going to be bruised.

"Not until you tell me what's going on," Dick pleaded.

"What do you think is going on? How did I manage to have a moron for a son?" Casablancas asked. "I'm not going to jail. I've got a way out now."

"Veronica's not testifying against you and... you said you came back... to make things right," Dick said. Veronica could tell he was on the verge of tears. But Dick held back, looking away. "Why did you really come back?"

"This is bigger than you and me, Dick. They brought me back, and if I do this right, they'll get me out of here," Richard said.

"Who's they?" Dick asked, confused. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You won't leave Neptune alive," Veronica taunted. She knew she should stay quiet, but she couldn't. "You'll be the scapegoat, you're the link between them and me that has to be erased."

Casablancas frowned. "Not anymore."

He pointed the gun at his son. "Tie her up." Then he turned the gun back to Veronica. "Now."

- - - - - - - - - -

Richard Casablancas checked the knots around Veronica's hands, then turned to his son. "Get another chair."

Dick did as he was told. Veronica could see tears were streaming down his face. He'd lost it all.

"Take a seat, son," he ordered.

Dick faced Veronica, his eyes apollogetic.

"What are you waiting for?" Veronica asked, the gun no longer cold against her skin.

Richard Casablancas smiled. "Dark. It was dark when Cassidy died, wasn't it?"

Veronica nodded slowly.

"Good," he said. Reaching for the leftover rope, he walked behind Dick and tied his hands. "See, I was thinking a little reenactment would be fitting."

"What the fuck, dad? What the fuck?" Dick asked, his cries no longer masked.

"She's right about a scapegoat. We all need one. I didn't think you'd be home now, you were supposed to be out with Logan, on campus. But I guess this is better."

Veronica's eyes widened in understanding. "You're gonna make Dick take the fall."

"Yes. Funny you should put it that way," Richard said. "You know how it is. These people don't play games, Veronica. If anyone should understand, it's you." He shrugged, nervous.

"What's he talking about?" Dick asked. He'd given up on his father and was trying to understand something, anything. "V, what's he talking about."

"Your father here's worried about dropping the soap in a prison shower. Someone pulled his financing in the Caymans and had him brought here, gave him a choice. He chose murder." She looked straight into Dick's eyes. "And you're going down for it."

Veronica saw the anger build in Dick's eyes. "Haven't you fucked up enough, Dad? What happened to Beaver's my fault, too, ok? I didn't see it either."

"This isn't about Beaver," Veronica whispered. "It's never been about Beaver, not to him."

"But everyone else will think it is," Richard said. "I guess you should be glad it's summer."

"Why's that?" Veronica asked, no longer afraid.

"The days are longer."

- - - - - - - - -

It took half an hour, but Mac finally found Leo's unlisted cellphone number. She dialed, waiting for the inevitable machine pick-up, but found a human voice on the other line. "Leo? This is Mac, Veronica's friend. It's an emergency. I need to speak to Mr. Mars."

Leo reacted rapidly. "He's not with me. What's wrong?"

"Someone kidnapped Veronica. We think we know who did it, and..."

"Who's we, Mac?" Leo asked.

"Piz and Logan. They went after... Look, Leo, I really need to speak to Veronica's dad. Just tell me how I can reach him."

Leo sighed. "He's in the hospital, Mac. There was a seven car pileup near Peach and Plaza. He's gonna be ok, the doctor said. I've been trying to reach Veronica for the past hour..."

Mac could feel tears stinging her eyes. "Leo, I need you to do something for me. I need you to act like this was an emergency call from the Neptune Grand. I need you to get over there."

"Where's Veronica, Mac? Who has her?"

"I think... We think Richard Casablancas has her. Logan and Piz are headed to the Grand now. The hotel is huge, they could be anywhere." Mac could hear Leo starting his car. "But if I had to bet, I'd say they're in the penthouse."

"Mac, listen carefully. I'm on my way there, now. Call those guys and tell them to do nothing until I get there."

"Ok," Mac said, knowing it would be futile. "Ok."

- - - - - - - - -

Piz answered the phone as they entered the Grand's parking lot. "Any news?" Piz asked. He put her on speaker phone.

"Deputy Leo's headed your way. He says not to do anything," Mac's voice filled the car.

"Fat chance," Logan countered, veering into the underground parking lot.

"I say, don't do anything stupid, don't get killed, and keep your fucking cellphone on, Logan."

"It's on," Logan said, looking around him.

Piz picked it up off the floor. "Three missed calls."

"Two are mine," Mac said over the speaker. "Look, guys, cavalry is on its way. I told Leo to have the place evacuated. Evacuation procedures of the Grand call for a floor-by-floor security check. Be safe," she added, hanging up.

"You have a voicemail," Piz pointed out.

"Play it."

It was Dick's voice. "_Again with the fucking inspirational messages. Anyway, man, don't forget the jalapeños, ok? Just 'cause you can't eat them doesn't mean I have to diet._ _Hey, man, I was just calling you_... _What the fuck, dad?" _Piz and Logan took a sharp breath at the loaded pause, expecting a gunshot. What they heard was almost worse. _ "Son, throw that phone off the balcony or I will blow her brains out."_

It was all it took for Logan to halt the car on the spot.

They both jumped out of the car and into a fake-flaming building.

**TBC...**

**Author's note 2:** Thanks for reading. I hope this action makes sense. Next chapter is almost ready and it's shaping up really nicely. Let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note: Ladies, gents: this is it. Final chapter and epilogue. Thanks so much for accompanying me on this ride. Without further ado:**

**CHAPTER 12**

The lobby was a mess of half-dressed tourists and businessmen in suits, all freshly-removed from their rooms, as the sound of a high-pitched alarm filled the air.

"What the fuck?" Logan asked.

"The fire drill," Piz said. "The fake evacuation. We're not gonna be able to use the elevators." He scanned the room. "Mac didn't think this through. Where are the emergency stairs?"

Logan looked around the room. "That way, I think."

"Let's go."

- - - - - - - - - - -

Dick watched his father pace the room over and over. He was tied down now, to another chair. He understood, for the first time ever, how Cassidy must have felt all those years. The incessant ringing of the alarm, distant, was at least comforting to Veronica. It seemed to have a different effect on Richard Casablancas.

"He's hopped up on something," Dick said softly.

Veronica nodded. "How tight did he tie you?"

Dick tugged at his restraints. "Tight enough. He sails."

The balcony had a balmy breeze blowing through it. For a second, Veronica thought that at least she would die with the scent of the ocean in her nostrils.

But Dick said something then. Something true. "He doesn't get to win," he said. If this had been any other time, Veronica would have smiled at his next statement. "I tied you... and I don't sail."

- - - - - - - - - - -

The stairs were proving too much for Logan. Piz looked sideways and saw a small reddish stain on Logan's t-shirt, above the belt.

"Stay here, man," Piz said. "You're slowing us down."

"No fucking way, Piznarski," Logan countered. "You'll get her killed." He skipped ahead a few steps and stopped, his arm agaist the wall.

"I'm not waiting for you. Waiting will get her killed," Piz pointed out.

Logan and Piz stared each other down. After thirty seconds, Logan sat on the landing of the tenth floor, defeated. Piz was right, this much he knew. He wouldn't make it upstairs.

Logan took his gun out of his belt and held it out to Piz. "It works the same as a shotgun and Dick's father is a lot larger than a rabbit."

Piz took the gun silently, nodded. Without another word, he ran up the next flight of stairs.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Veronica's wrists were rubbed raw but she knew she was getting somewhere. The sun was setting now and there wasn't much time left.

She calculated her odds as she undid the ropes binding her. They weren't good, but if she was going to die, she was going to die fighting. The ropes were loose enough and Richard Casablancas kept pacing. He was talking to himself, and it scared her to think who the voices in his head represented.

She tried to reach Dick's wrists but she couldn't. She caught a glimpse at the knot that held his hands together. "Stop tugging at your hands, Dick," she whispered. "It's a weird knot, I saw it once on Logan's yatch. The only way to loosen it is to get one hand higher than the other. Vertical, not horizontal movements."

"Got it," Dick said. "You free?"

"Almost. But I don't have my taser or anything."

Dick looked around the balcony. "I have a baseball bat. It used to be... I keep it in the living room, next to Logan's CDs. If you can get to it..."

"STOP TALKING!" Richard Casablancas yelled. But he wasn't looking at either Dick or Veronica.

Still, she froze up.

At some other time, she would have recklessly ducked and tried to crawl into the living room. But Casablancas was waving a gun around and Dick was tied up, already collateral damage.

For the first time in a very long time, she allowed herself to hope. She hoped that Piz would find a way to track her down, that he'd call her father, that he'd relay the message to the right people, that it would all happen fast enough.

The magic hour was upon them, and the sun was dying down by the oceanside. Richard Casablancas' eyes focused on the sky behind Veronica, and smiled.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

This was nothing like the movies, Piz found. It was a different thing to arrive at the eighteenth floor winded from running, a gun he'd never fired in one hand. He wasn't a superhero, not at this. That much he knew.

The emergency exit door had opened automatically, just as Mac had foreseen, and it stood ajar, waiting for Piz to step through it. He looked inside. It led onto a deserted laundry room.

Piz took a shaky breath and pulled the door open. The laundry room was dark and it provided cover. He couldn't hear any voices, and for a second his heart sank. Maybe he was too late.

But then he thought better. Veronica wasn't the kind of girl who would just cry and scream. She was planning something, some escape, she always had some sort of plan. If he could just figure out what that would be and work himself into it...

Ok, so first step would be... think like the "perp". For a man who was soon to be on the run from the police, it would not be a good idea to have a body linked to him. So... Casablancas would want to make it look like an accident.

Veronica had told him about Dick's brother, about his death.

It would have been easy to blame Veronica for it.

It would be easy to make Veronica into a suicidal girl who felt guilty for the death of the other Casablancas kid, if one was so inclined to spin it that way, and the press could easily spin it that way. Just a girl who jumped. An accident. Or maybe shoot her and blame Dick, a classic revenge scenario.

Had it not been for his father's penchant for police drama and the past year spent at Neptune, these scenarios would never had run through Piz's head.

Piz turned the doorknob to the rest of the apartment, very slowly.

He peeked to the other side, the kitchen, the living room...

Casablancas paced the length of the room.

Piz didn't have a clean shot. He didn't have any kind of shot from here.

Casablancas turned to the balcony, pausing, and his voice, muffled by distance, said something. So they were on the balcony.

If he knew Veronica at all, and he thought he might, she would be plotting an escape. And she could use a distraction.

And that, he could provide.

He opened the door only slightly wider and looked around for something to shoot. Something rabbit sized.

A glass flower vase stood on the marble counter.

He aimed and fired and hoped that, at the very least, it was a very expensive flower vase.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

A loud pop followed by broken glass made the sweaty, nervous Richard Casablancas stand to attention. Veronica could see, out of the corner of her eye, a metallic glint disappearing behind the laundry room door. Casablancas pointed his gun at Veronica, then at Dick, then towards the kitchen. Confused, he held the gun up to his head, the butt to his temple, the cool feel of the metal a calming device.

"Come out, whoever you are," he sang out, pointing the gun back at the kitchen and taking two steps towards it.

Veronica knew this was her chance. Her hands loosened the rest of the restraints and she grabbed her chair. Raising it above her head, she ran towards Casablancas and hit him on his back, missing his head by a few inches.

Casablancas stumbled but he didn't fall. He turned and pointed the gun at Veronica and, with no further words, fired.

The bullet entered her shoulder and pushed her to the floor with a scream. Casablancas cocked the gun again, pointing at her head this time.

And then 3000 volts of electricity hit Richard Casablanca's neck and coursed through his body.

He dropped to the floor.

Piz stepped on the man's hand until he released his grip on the gun.

He kicked away the gun and gave Casablancas a second dose of electricity under his chin, for good measure.

Piz kneeled by Veronica, his hands attempting to staunch the blood.

"I'll be fine," she whispered, grimacing at the pain. "Untie Dick."

He nodded, leaving her the taser in reach of her good arm.

Dick was looking away from it all, from the carnage and the man that had never been a father. Piz undid the knot that was already loosened.

Without a word, Dick walked out to the living room and grabbed his father's gun off the floor. He pointed it at his father with both hands, his wrists welted and red from fighting the ropes. "You fucker," he cried. He kicked him. "Wake the fuck up! I want you to see me when I kill you."

"Don't, Dick," Veronica warned, weakly.

"Why not? Why the hell not? He's scum. He wanted to kill you, wanted to blame me... What kind of a father does that? What kind..." Dick cocked the gun. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and kicked Casablancas again. "Wake the fuck up!"

Piz approached Dick slowly. "Come on, Dick. Let it go. Let it go."

"What do you know? You can't know... what it's like..."

"The man's tried to kill us all, but he's not working alone," Piz said.

Dick looked momentarily at Veronica, who was still bleeding profusely. She was pale under the filtering moonlight. "He's right, Dick. We could use him alive. He could be useful for one thing, and then we'll take him straight to jail, to that place he's so afraid of. He'll be in there forever. He won't hurt you anymore." She attempted to stand, to take the gun from Dick's hand, but she couldn't. "Give Piz the gun."

"He deserves to die," Dick whispered. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

Piz nodded softly. "He deserves worse than that, Dick. If you shoot him now, he gets peace."

Dick let his arm go slack. Piz took the gun from Dick's hand and tucked it into his other pocket.

A gun in each pocket. Piz felt his heart race.

Dick crumpled to the floor. "I'm sorry, V," he whispered, unable to control his sobs.

Veronica reached out her good arm and tasered Richard Casablancas senior one last time before blacking out.

- - - - - - - - - -

Piz kneeled down beside Veronica and relied mainly on his experience as a member of a moviegoing audience. He ripped his t-shirt and used a large strip of fabric to tie around Veronica's shoulder, pressing on the wound.

"Tie your father up," Piz told Dick, who did as he was ordered, sniffling.

Piz leaned in and could feel Veronica's heartbeat weakly. "We need to get her to a hospital," he said. Piz handed his phone over to Dick, who quickly dialed 9-1-1.

Piz was on automatic, his hands pressing down on Veronica's shoulder. "Please be ok," he whispered. Her arm, her shirt were covered in blood and there was a pool of it below her body.

"They're not picking up," Dick said.

"Keep trying."

And then the elevator doors opened.

"Freeze," Leo D'Amato said, his gun pointed straight ahead at nothing.

Until he saw them.

"You idiots," he whispered, running to Veronica. "I told you to wait."

Piz picked Veronica's slack body up off the floor. "We need to..." he said, starting towards the elevator.

"There's an ambulance downstairs. Go!" Leo ordered.

Piz nodded. Holding Veronica close to his body, he ran towards the elevator. "Logan blew his stitches on the emergency stairs," he added, as the doors closed behind him.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The ambulance crew found Logan Echolls on the landing of the eleventh floor emergency stairs, bleeding from his abdomen. He was flittering in and out of consciousness.

Still, when they loaded him onto the stretcher, he asked, "Are they ok?"

But an oxygen mask and painkillers didn't let him get an answer.

- - - - - - - - - - -

There were voices, Veronica would later recall. Voices that screamed and voices that calmly stated numbers and a familiar voice that whispered, "You're gonna be fine, you have to be fine, you're gonna be fine."

And then a tiny prick on her arm and nothing.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Veronica Mars woke up to glaring white light in a glaringly white room. She blinked three times before her father's face came into focus.

"You are gonna give me a heart attack, you know that, right?" he asked.

Veronica nodded, a shooting pain creeping up her neck from her shoulder. "He shot me," she said softly.

"He did. He's in county lock up now," her father said. "Don't move around too much."

She looked at her father slowly, noticing the cast on his arm. "What happened?"

"Pileup on Main, a car hit my car, totaled it. We're officially pedestrians, you and I, kid," Keith said.

"And you'll have matching casts," Logan's voice added, from the bed next to hers. "How cute."

Veronica shook her head slowly, confused. "What's he doing here?"

"Blew his stitches, then paid extra to be put in the same room as you," her father explained. "Wouldn't shut up, wouldn't take his meds until you woke up."

"But you're up now, so I'm gonna get medicated. These stitches are killing me," he added, turning away from Veronica and her father.

Veronica breathed in slowly, everything was still hazy. "Where's Piz? Is he ok? And Dick?"

"They're fine." Her father caressed her forehead. "Piz is finishing up his statement to the police. Dick's being held for psychiatric observation. He's... he's been through a lot."

"I want to be there for Richard Casablancas interrogation. I want to..." she said, attempting to sit up.

Her father stilled her movements. "Slow down, kid. First you need to get better, ok?"

She sighed slowly. "Ok."

"You were shot."

"I was shot."

He nodded. "Let that sink in, my girl. You've been shot in the line of duty."

She closed her eyes and repeated, sleepily, "I've been shot."

- - - - - - - - - -

When she woke up again, it was to the sound of Wallace's voice saying "Go Fish" and the subsequent groan that sounded like it belonged to Mac.

She opened her eyes a little and found Wallace, Mac and Weevil engaged in a game of "Go Fish" with Logan. She smiled but said nothing, still too sleepy to attempt coherency.

The sound of soft breathing called her attention from the other side of her bed. She turned and found Piz sleeping beside her, his head weighing down the mattress.

In sleep, he held on to the sleeve of her hospital gown.

Veronica closed her eyes.

- - - - - - - - - -

She opened her eyes again, this time to sunlight. The pain in her shoulder was dull but she no longer felt the haze of painkillers in her mind.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked around the room, blinking slowly. Her eyes found Piz reading beside her. She touched his arm softly.

"Hey," Piz said, his hand squeezing hers. "You're awake."

She nodded softly. "I was shot."

"You were," he said. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I was worried. I should've bandaged you before untying Dick, I should've..."

She raised her good arm and brought a finger to his lips. "Sshh... You did good."

"Mac and Wallace and Weevil came by. Dick, too, and Leo. You got a ton of flowers. Even Parker sent some from Denver."

"I hate flowers," she murmured.

"Mac mentioned that when she donated the lot of them to the _Flowers-for-smiles_ booth downstairs."

"So that's why I don't smell them." She smiled sleepily. "So what did you get me?" she asked.

He held up the book he'd been reading. "A Nancy Drew mystery and this," he said, kissing her mouth softly. "It got real boring without you to make me shut up."

His tongue traced her lower lip, begging for permission. She allowed him access briefly, before backing away. "I must have the worst morning breath ever."

"You taste perfect," he lied, grinning. "Like pit viper venom."

She laughed, letting him close the space between them, his lips on hers again.

"For the love of God, get a room," Logan called from the other bed. "Some of us want to sleep here."

Veronica rolled her eyes with a smile.

Piz shrugged. "You were the one who insisted on rooming with_ my _girlfriend, deal with it," he added, leaning in for another kiss.

"Yeah, can it, Echolls," she added, moving to kiss Piz.

Logan groaned and stood up. "I'm gonna take a walk," he added, carrying his IV drip and walking past them in his hospital gown and nothing more.

"Uh, dude, your ass is hanging out," Piz pointed out.

"That, Piznarski, is why I get all the nurses' attentions," Logan explained, making his way down the corridor, bare assed and shuffling.

"He's gonna get dragged back in here by the two male nurses again," Piz said.

"Again?" Veronica asked, raising an eyebrow.

Piz shrugged. "Where were we?"

"Pit viper territory," she whispered, hissing softly against his lips.

He growled.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Mac walked into the room, followed closely by Eli. "Mars," she said, grinning widely at her friends open eyes.

Veronica held a finger up to her lips and pointed to Piz, who was slumped on a chair, sleeping. "He's taking a power nap."

"How long has he been out?" Mac asked in a whisper, taking Veronica's hand in hers. Weevil kissed Veronica's hair.

"Three hours, maybe?"

Mac smiled. "Yeah, he hasn't left since they brought you to the hospital. Wallace brought him a toothbrush and some clothes the day before yesterday. We got tired of smelling him and he looked funny in the blue scrubs they gave him so he wouldn't be wearing the ripped, blood-covered T-shirt."

Veronica nodded, slowly.

"We stopped by to bring you some news," Weevil said, handing her a newspaper. "Check it, V. It looks like you pissed off all the right people."

Veronica smiled, opening the paper. "They called Jake Kane in for questioning?" she asked, tears threatening to sting her eyes.

Mac nodded. "Casablancas pointed fingers for a possibility of parole."

"It'll never stick," Veronica whispered. "And I won't let him get paroled."

Mac shrugged. "Kane stock dropped dramatically this morning. And Clarence Wiedman's been subpoenaed. Cliff McCormack said to tell you that subpoena alone might be worth your bullet."

"The big problem is Casablancas was on drugs or something, and The Castle will probably deny any knowledge of his activities. They'll pin everything on him," Veronica said, her lips pursed.

"I don't think they'll threaten you again, though. From what your dad has been able to piece together, the threats were Casablanca's all along. Yes, he was on Kane's payroll but he was acting mostly alone. Gorya was more directly linked to The Castle. Somewhere along the line, they started working together. After Logan, he must have offed Gorya. We figured two people were working on the radio call thing, and it most likely was Casablancas with some hired hand, some tech savvy guy hired to make a prank call." Mac spread her hands in the air. "It's all still a little confusing. How did Casablancas know how to hack the radio lines, how did he manage to get into the station? I think Wiedman is further in than we figure."

"Who trashed the guys' room?" Veronica added.

"Your dad thinks that was Wiedman, too," Weevil answered. "They noticed Casablancas getting reckless, and they knew they had to save their asses. If someone found a bug in their room after one of them or both of them showed up dead, it could've been traced to Gorya, then back to Kane Software."

"All Hearst software and safety interface are Kane-produced. Wiedman could easily give Gorya access codes to mess with your life, and scare you. Casablancas took it one step further," Mac said.

Piz woke with a start, breathing heavily.

"Man, you ok?" Weevil asked.

Piz nodded, non-commital. "Yeah... I just gotta... wash my face." He stopped to kiss Veronica's forehead first, brushing away strands of hair.

Veronica watched him retreat into the bathroom, her lips pursed in worry. The nightmares were still there. She just hadn't gotten to watch him sleep in a while.

She had a sinking feeling that having had her blood on his hands wasn't going to help Piz sleep better.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Jake Kane walked into Veronica's hospital room on the same day she was supposed to be discharged. Logan had already left the hospital two days before, and Veronica thanked whatever God needed thanking for that. It wasn't worth blowing his stitches over, but Logan would do it, no questions asked.

Piz had never met Kane before, but he could tell by the look in Veronica's eyes that there was a history, a war, and he stood up beside Veronica's bed, like a soldier to attention.

"Miss Mars," Jake Kane said, his voice more condescending than she had expected.

"Jake Kane," Veronica shot back. He didn't deserve a courtesy title. "I guess you're a little disappointed the body count isn't in the double digits."

"I was just stopping by to check on you. My son would have wanted as much," he said.

"Duncan would probably like it if you stopped trying to get me killed." She met his eyes without fear.

"May we speak in private?" he asked.

Veronica looked at Piz, who didn't flinch. "I'm not leaving."

Veronica arched an eyebrow. "You heard the man. Say what you want, Kane. You almost got him killed, he might as well stay for the apology."

"No apology, Miss Mars. Casablancas and Sorokin acted alone." he said.

"Funny you should say that. I'm pretty sure Clarence Wiedman's security access codes to the Kane Interface used at Hearst will be easily connected to a phone-tampering scheme that led to a death threat and a stabbing." Veronica looked at her bandaged shoulder in passing. "You didn't pull the trigger, but every step you've taken over the last three years has put me in the path of a bullet. My father lost an election he deserved to win." Her eyes focused on Jake Kane's and he couldn't look away. "If there's something I've never regretted is finding out that Keith Mars is my father. You don't hold anything over my head, and so many people know about your little feud with me, you can bet that if anything happens to me or my friends it will come back to bite you in the ass."

"Miss Mars..."

"Don't Miss-Mars me. My name is Veronica, and I'm here for the duration. Today's paper talks of a recall election for Sheriff. Something about Vinnie Van Lowe's reputation being called into question for not placing Richard Casablancas in protective custody and for giving a certain Clarence Wiedman of Kane Software an all-access pass to the County Clerk's office." She smiled. "How does it feel to be out of the loop?" He didn't answer, so she kept going. "I'm never going to ruin you completely and you're never going to break me. So I suggest a truce."

She looked up to Piz, who seemed a bit surprised at her suggestion.

So did Jake Kane. "A truce?"

"You stay the fuck out of my life and I'll keep my nose out of your dirty laundry. But you make one move to harm me or anyone I care about and I will do everything within my reach to make sure you never see peace." She smiled cinically, and her bandaged arm seemed to be no impediment for the harm she could cause. "And if I get wind that one of your goons is tailing me or anyone I care about, I will make sure you pay. You can ask around. I mean business."

"A truce." Jake Kane pondered the possibility. "How do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain?"

"The same way I know you'll never get me shot at again," she said, her eyebrow arched. "Every ounce of dirt I have on you is ready to hit newstands the second you make a move. Everything about The Castle. I like having that leverage. I'm not gonna give it up so easily." With a smirk she extended her hand. "That death-wish thing? It's old news."

Jake Kane lowered his gaze in defeat. Piz could tell Veronica's warning was something he took seriously.

Kane took her hand and shook it, his fingers shaking just a bit.

Veronica gripped the man's hand forcefully and looked straight into his eyes. "Duncan is fine, by the way," she said. A gesture. A favor. A bitter, vengeful remark. Closure. "He's happy."

The older man's stone face seemed to soften as his eyes looked away. "Yes, well, I should go."

"I trust we won't have to go over this again," Veronica said.

"We won't," he replied, slowly walking away.

For the first time since the man entered the room, Piz could feel himself relax, his fists unclench.

He placed a hand on Veronica's healthy shoulder and she looked up at him.

Veronica's eyes filled with unshed tears. Anger and hurt coursed through her veins and she clamped a hand to her mouth in an attempt to drown out her cries. Sobs racked her body and she leaned into Piz's torso and let everything out. Three years of her life dedicated to destroying an enemy and now that she'd won, now that she had a promise of a certain peace, there was no battle left in her. Her good hand balled into a fist and slammed against Piz's arm in frustration.

He held her as best he could and took every punch, until she was too tired to resist his hold. He brushed her hair off her tear-stained cheeks and kissed her mouth. "You'll be ok."

And for the first time in a long time, she thought maybe she would be.

**EPILOGUE**

"I can't believe you're doing this," Mac said, looking at Veronica's large backpack.

"Well, believe it, sister," Veronica replied, pulling on her beat up sneakers. "It kinda makes sense, you know, since I don't have a car anymore." She grabbed the backpack and carried it out of her bedroom. "Plus, I couldn't find a flight."

"Right," Mac said, following followed her through the apartment and out onto the stair landing. "It's all about being practical." The glaring sunlight almost blinded them both.

Keith Mars ran up the last few stairs and rolled his eyes at his daughter. "We discussed this, honey. Carrying a large backpack is a bad idea when you've been shot recently."

"But I used my good arm," she said, batting her eyelashes at her father.

He took the backpack from her hand and carried it down the stairs to Piz's car.

Veronica smiled at the sight of Piz. He was wearing the same ratty t-shirt and bermuda shorts he'd worn the first time they met. Cross-country driving clothes.

He greeted her with a wide grin and she gave him a one-armed hug, standing on the tips of her toes.

"You got everything in there?" he asked, taking the large backpack from Keith Mars' hands and stuffing it in the trunk of his car. He pretended to struggle with the weight. Mac and Wallace rolled their eyes at each other when Piz asked, "What's in here besides the pony?"

"Every FBI-ready item of clothing and everything a girl could need in Beaverton, Oregon," she admitted.

"Again, not Thunderdome. Plenty of stores in Oregon. We've even got a mall," he explained. "Plus we're only gonna be there two days, else we won't make it to our internships in time."

She kissed him softly. "Good to know."

"I don't think your car is gonna handle the weight, Stosh," Mr. Mars joked.

"That's because he has a crap car," Weevil opined.

"Yeah, like yours is any better," Mac countered.

"I didn't hear you complaining last -" Weevil started but Wallace put a hand up, in protest.

"Didn't I say I didn't want to hear it?" Wallace asked. "Too Much Information. This is why I'm going to Africa. To get away from all this oversharing."

Eli thumbed his lips and laughed as he wrapped an arm around Mac's waist.

"When exactly did this happen?" Veronica asked, raising an eyebrow at Mac.

"Sometime between you getting shot and waking up," Mac admitted.

Veronica glanced at her father's watch. "We should get going. Lots of driving to do and only one driver to do it."

"Don't you want to wait for..." Piz started, looking sideways in direction to the sea. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

She shrugged her good shoulder, her eyes saddened. "I don't think they're coming. It's only a few weeks anyway."

Piz nodded, eyes on the ground. "Off we go then." He opened the passenger's door for Veronica and she slid in. She pulled out her camera and took a picture of her father, Mac, Wallace and Weevil through the window.

"Call often or I will go hunt you down," her father said, kissing her forehead.

"Like the bounty hunter that you are," Veronica finished.

"Get that arm looked at when you get to Quantico," he added.

She nodded. Piz shook Wallace's hand, then Weevil's.

Mac bumped his hip. "See you around, Piznarski."

He smiled and shook Keith Mars' hand, half expecting a threat. The older man patted his back and nodded in silent aproval.

Piz got into the car and started the engine. It sputtered. "For the love of evolution, please get us to Oregon, Virginia and New York," he said.

Veronica smiled, tugging at her seatbelt. Piz helped her with the buckle. The arm was healing well but it was still in process, and Veronica was still getting used to her reduced mobility.

And she was getting used to trusting, depending on people.

The car pulled out of the parking lot and Veronica waved at everyone, looking into the sunlight through her lashes. The car advanced slowly down the street, too slowly for her taste. Veronica was about to complain but then she caught Piz looking in his rearview mirror.

The black SUV approached in her mirror-view. She turned as it stopped beside them and the tinted windows rolled down with an automatic zipping sound. Dick, his hair still wet from the surf, was driving. Logan was dry, he couldn't surf yet, and he was thinner than he'd ever been. He waved at them and smiled. He wore sunglasses, hiding his eyes from Veronica. She sighed softly. Whatever was left between them would take time to heal. Piz had told her about Logan's role in finding her the day Casablanca's kidnapped her, and she was grateful. She had talked to him a little at the hospital, but having a real conversation was still a ways off. Still, he was here. It was something.

"Thought we wouldn't make it, V?" Dick asked, hair dripping on the half-opened window.

"It crossed my mind," she said. "And I was terrified of spending a summer without saying goodbye to you, Dick."

"Whatever," he said, pushing his blonde hair behind his ears. "So I guess we're, like, friends now?" Dick looked almost childlike. He was an orphan of living parents, more so than ever before. He wanted a genuine answer. And Veronica could give him that. When had she learned to let go of all the crap he'd put her through in high school? A balcony, a gun, oh, what inanimate objects could do.

Veronica smirked, and nodded. "Friends." She tried to gauge Logan's mood, but he wasn't giving. "We have to go. Miles to go before we sleep," she added.

Dick nodded. "You two have a good summer," he said. "We'll see each other in the fall or whatever."

"That sounds about right," Veronica replied. Piz raised a hand to wave at them and, surprisingly Logan waved back.

He took off his sunglasses and attempted a smile. "Drive safe," he said, noncommitally, his eyes on Piz.

Piz took it for what it was. A peace offering, a warning, a blessing. "Will do."

"Take care," Veronica said softly, and she was almost sure Logan couldn't hear her over the car engine, but he nodded.

"You too," he said.

Dick pushed a button and the tinted window rolled up to a close. Veronica waved at the darkened window once more before looking back at Piz. Maybe this was closure.

Piz squeezed her hand once as the SUV drove away. Then he slipped the car into gear and stepped down on the accelerator.

Veronica felt the wind whip her hair around.

She sighed, contented, her attention on her companion. "So, Piznarski, got some tunes for this roadtrip?" she asked.

Piz smiled wickedly. Reaching over, he opened the glove compartment and found his IPOD. Singlehandedly hooking it up to the car stereo, he pushed play.

Music filled the car, a soundtrack for the feeling that maybe they were unstoppable.

"So, this place, Beaverton..." she started, her elbow on the window, her eyes on the steering wheel as his hands moved, tapping a rhythm on the plastic.

"What about it?" he asked, already smiling at her impending question.

"Are there any actual beavers there?" she asked. For the first time in a long time, she did not associate the word with pain.

Piz opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, a grin wide on his lips. His index finger in the air promised a story that would make Veronica laugh a wholehearted laugh. "Funny you should ask. You know that scar I have on my knee?"

The car sped past a rusted sign on the road, a sign that read, _Thank you for visiting Neptune. We know you'll be back soon._

And Veronica couldn't help thinking, _Not for a few weeks._

And maybe that would be enough.

**The End**

**Author's note Número 2:**

_Thank you so much for sticking with this. It's my first multi-chapter story in this fandom and I hope you've enjoyed it. I know the loose ends aren't tied up as neatly as they could be, and I apologize if that bothers you. To me, it seems interesting to think that this thing that has happened to Veronica is something she can't sort out completely, and that she has to learn to be at peace with this. I think it also works as a setup for the following:_

_I'm toying with the idea of writing a sequel that starts off with Piz picking Veronica up from Virginia at the end of their internship and their drive back to Neptune/start of Sophomore year at Hearst. If anyone's interested, I'd love your input. It will be a way to delve into the story of Piz and his brother, and I'd work in some of the appreciations Veronica has of Piz's family from her two-day stay in Beaverton. Up for it? Drop me a line._

_And to all you people who read and reviewed this, thank you!_

_di_


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